The Question of the Exploding Toilet
by Rynna Aurelia
Summary: Amos Kane swears on his life to protect Sally Jackson's son Percy before she dies. He tries to find the father to look after the child, and when there isn't one, the Kanes wind up adding a demigod to their number (Not that they know it).
1. The Mother's Wish

**Disclaimer:** I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson, or the Kane Chronicles.

**Warnings:** Swearing, character death, some medical inaccuracy, along with above-canon levels of violence. Some symptoms, diagnoses, and timelines are stretched or compressed for dramatic story purposes.

* * *

_"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. . .It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark and thinking there is one more step than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought about things."_

-Lemony Snicket, _Horseradish_

* * *

The toddler screamed again behind him.

Amos flinched before collecting himself. Panic wouldn't do anyone any good. He shoved down his useless guilt as he focused on trying to save the life of the child's mother after stopping her would-be murderer.

_Too late, _the realist in him whispered. _You're no healer, but you know an artery when you see it._

"Just hold still, the ambulance won't be long," he said urgently. Again, he wished he had bothered to learn more healing spells as he tried to slow the woman's bleeding; his shirt was more crimson than white at this point.

He muttered another spell under his breath to little effect, as she coughed weakly. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she tried to sit herself up.

When Amos put a hand on her shoulder to encourage her to lie back down, tell her to save her strength for a last-ditch effort by human doctors, she clutched at his sleeve with a surprisingly strong grip.

"It's gone," he said quickly as he gently loosened her grip; her hands were clammy and cold as ice. "I dealt with it, your son is safe. Save your strength."

The fevered, piercing gaze she fixed him with terrified Amos.

"You. . .are not mortal," she managed. Amos paused briefly. He knew that look. He'd met some clear-sighted mortals during his training as an initiate within the First Nome. They tended see things they shouldn't, as if magic was a veil they could draw aside at will.

All of them had loathed it.

Amos nodded; his hands began to tremble as the bleeding refused to stop. _Damn curses. _"I am a magician, ma'am."

"Then you—shit. . ." She broke off to struggle for breath as she hacked and spat. Heedless of the blood she was spitting out everywhere, Amos ripped off a glove, and one spell later, pressed the makeshift cloth against the ugly gash across her stomach.

Despite his exhaustion, he used a heating spell to try and stave off at least that symptom of the shock.

The least he could do was try and keep her comfortable if he was going to be useless.

The hacking fit passed, but the bleeding still barely slowed. Amos clenched his jaw, and ran through what he'd seen of the attack again, trying to remember more of the curse written upon the mugger's blade. He had felt the malice in it even from a block away, like ice trickling down his spine.

He couldn't ever recall running faster in his life, heedless of the danger of crossing to the wrong side of the river when he had seen the woman shielding her son from the mugger who Amos wasn't sure had been at all human. He had turned into dust as Amos threw him across the wall, hieroglyphs dancing around his staff and illuminating the night.

The woman's grip on his wrist tightened, forcing Amos back to the now. "Take care of him. Percy."

"You'll be fine," Amos said reflexively, even as spots danced before his eyes from trying to untangle the effects of the curse on her wound. The effect was simple; the blood would not stop, and the wound refused to close. The curse itself meanwhile, was complicated and twisted and full of _intent. _

She shook her head, wincing. "Kind. . .to say so. But no. I know."

"Mama?"

Amos made the mistake of looking when he heard the toddler's—_Percy's_—scared, unsure question. His green eyes were wide and confused, tiny hands wringing his wrinkled shirt as he leaned forward. Amos kept himself between the boy and his mother, mindful of all the blood. No one should ever have _that_ as their last memory of a parent.

Blood and screaming and strange men on a dingy New York street and _whywon'tshewake_**_up_**—

Thoth's beak, he was a kid_. _A _kid._

The same age as Julius and Ruby's children, he'd bet. The thought of any of them in this position was like a stab to the chest.

Amos would fix this. He _would._

"You 'kay?" Percy asked, still trying to get around Amos, who gently pulled him up and around to a mercifully clean spot right above the woman's head.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," she whispered, a small sob escaping after the endearment. She craned her neck, struggling to look at her son. "Just. . .stay with him."

Amos's head whipped around as he heard sirens going off in the distance. _About fucking time. _

He turned around back to see Percy reach out one hand to his mother, whose eyes were now glimmering with unrestrained tears as she drank in the sight of her son before looking at Amos, her expression desperate and terrified.

"Promise me," she pleaded, her voice hoarse as blood trickled down her chin. "Take care of him."

"I'll make sure he's looked after by—"

"No!" she growled, her eyes feverishly bright. _"You. _You saw, you can protect him from _them. _He's. . .Percy is not like me. The monsters, they will hunt him. Save him. His father. . .we can't, he. . .he needs to be protected. Please. My son."

She let go, leaving a bloody hand-print on Amos's suit jacket, her last effort spent. Percy was silent, tears streaming down his cheeks, even as he didn't quite understand what was happening.

But Amos had been around enough toddlers to know that he understood enough. And it was the fear on his young face, at the thought of being left alone in the world—a world that had ripped his mother from him—that made Amos's decision.

He leaned forward, and clasped the woman's hand in both of his.

"My name is Amos Kane, and I am a scribe to the House of Life," he said firmly, "On my soul, I swear to protect Percy as if he were my own."

She let out a long sigh, a slight smile curving her bloodied lips. "Thank you, Amos. And. . .Perseus. His name is Perseus Jackson."

"And you?" he asked gently, ignoring the flashing lights out of the corner of his eye as the screeching sirens neared them. Perseus Jackson huddled closer to Amos, whimpering.

"Sally. Tell him. . .someday. I love him, and I'm so. . .sorry," she said in a directive Amos felt settling around his shoulders with the same weight of his vow.

Her eyes drifted closed, and Amos felt his eyes sting as Percy Jackson began to scream and sob.

* * *

Amos didn't let the toddler go as he was questioned by the mortal police.

Percy Jackson, on his part, had exhausted himself after several minutes of heartbreaking cries for a mother who couldn't respond.

He fell asleep as his tears worked their way out, and was soon drooling on Amos's suit with his tiny fists clutching Amos's braids as he slept.

It was startlingly endearing, if Amos was being honest.

"Well, if that's all, Mister Kane, you can go, after you give your signature and date. Today's December the twentieth," the constable said, fixing him with a suspicious eye from across the desk.

It had taken nearly an hour for everything, as well as some spell usage that would've left Julius either spitting fire or splitting his sides with laughter at Amos's past hypocrisy if he had seen any of it, and the police's patience had long since worn thin with Amos's sidestepping of questions.

"And your nephew, I suppose," the constable tacked on, marginally more empathetic as his gaze fell on the sleeping Percy. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Amos nodded, calm mask firmly in place. "Thank you, officer. We're grateful for your help."

The police officer snorted at that, but Amos was already doing his best to _not obviously flee, I do not flee, Ruby, _out of the police station before he changed his mind and called Amos back on some trumped-up suspicion. Thankfully, news blaring from the television of a sudden Category Five hurricane forming off the east coast of Florida distracted the constable, preserving the peace.

Considering Amos and Percy had no immediate resemblance to each other, it had taken some paperwork Amos "happened" to have on him to prove anything to a very paranoid deployment of the NYPD. Sheer luck had granted him papyrus on his person to change into the necessary documents on the fly, but by the end, Amos had been very ready to string everyone up by their underwear and walk out of there.

But that would've defeated the purpose of the whole charade.

To the mortal eye, Amos lived in a rundown warehouse and held no steady job—not to mention all the traveling they would find on record. He wouldn't have a chance in all the Duat at legal guardianship of Percy, and as much as he loathed it, it was much simpler for him to backdate everything.

Not to mention it would minimize the amount of time he'd have to spend explaining why he was taking on a mortal ward to the Chief Lector. The rules were normally very clear about this sort of thing: _just don't do it, you ridiculous excuse of a magician._

And normally, Amos just didn't bother. Julius was always the one who toed the line out of the two of them.

But he'd quite solidly outdone his brother, Amos thought ruefully. Even if he still had no idea what _for, _beyond his instincts screaming at him to not leave Percy alone, and his promise to a dead woman.

There was something about him Amos just couldn't quite put his finger on.

_Which would be a shit explanation for Desjardins, if Iskandar sends him out to Brooklyn after catching wind of this._

Amos shuddered at that thought as he hailed a cab from the street corner, and adjusted his grip on Percy, soothing him as he stirred a little, just like he had watched Ruby and Julius comfort their children countless times.

Because that's who he was now, to this trusting child with rumpled black hair and sleepy green eyes. He only hoped he would live up to it.

* * *

Amos yelped, and was heedless of the scattered paperwork as he went to pull Percy out of the pool.

Percy, meanwhile, only gave a very confused-looking Philip of Macedonia his own toothy grin as water was sent flying everywhere by Amos's hasty retrieval.

"Percy! You need to stay out of there," he barked, setting Percy down gently near the kitchen area, and _away _from the man-eating magical crocodile.

Amos was going to go grey before Julius, he just knew it.

Percy, oblivious, blinked at him, all guileless curiosity. "Why, Uncle Amos?"

"Because it's not safe for you in there." Amos explained with exasperation. This was the third time this week he had caught Percy in pool, and every time, he got closer to Philip; on the _shabti_'s part, he seemed to regard the toddler with a strange indulgence, circling around Percy as he waded towards the crocodile. Nevertheless, Amos worried that one day Percy would manage to test Philip's temper.

"Why?"

Amos sighed. _One of those days, then. _"Because Philip is very dangerous, and somewhat. . .testy."

"Why?"

"Because I made him that way, to protect everyone within Brooklyn House." Not that anyone _besides _him and Percy lived in Brooklyn House.

"Why?"

"Because I appreciate the help if bad guys ever show up." _Not that they would, _Amos thought smugly. He'd reached out to J.D. Grissom in Dallas, and he had been more than willing to send help with strengthening the wards. A god couldn't even _peer _inside Brooklyn House now. Not without Amos's permission, and he wasn't giving that out anytime soon.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not all-powerful, Percy," Amos said, as kind as he could manage it. "I won't always be there."

"Why?" Percy asked simply, the beginnings of worry showing in his trembling lip. Amos didn't answer, wracking his brain alternately for a good answer or a good way to change the subject.

He remembered his mother's mugging, Amos knew that much. He may not have completely understood what death was yet, and Amos thanked Thoth every day for it, but Percy was clever, if somewhat hyperactive. The concept of a parent leaving and never coming back wasn't foreign.

"Because. . .one day you'll grow up. You won't need me then, believe me." Amos settled on that for now, and pulled Percy in for a loose hug. Percy, for his part, was surprisingly solemn.

He had always seemed to trust Amos from the first day; Amos, for his part, wondered if he deserved it. Unable to save his mother, barely able to give Percy something resembling a normal upbringing. . .the list went on. And that wasn't even taking into account the more dangerous aspects of living with a magician responsible for an entire nome.

Amos feared the day a serious threat decided to cross the river into Brooklyn.

Percy started to get twitchy, and Amos let him go, steering him in the direction of the library where all of his coloring books were kept. He then stood up, dusted his trousers off, and slowly picked up his loose papers that he'd been studying before Percy's latest Philip-related foray.

Amos sat back down at the table with them, and sighed heavily.

It was quite a good thing Percy was such an easygoing child, rolling with everything as earnestly as anyone could in his position, considering how two months on, Amos was quite ready to start tearing his hair out over just trying to deal with what accompanied mere paperwork.

The backdating of documents, the misdirection, the—Amos involuntarily made the gesture against evil at the memory—awkward visit from Desjardins. It had turned out to only be the beginning.

First, there had been the visit to the pediatrician, who had a cousin stationed in the Twenty-Fifth Nome, thankfully. She hadn't batted an eye when Amos had pleaded with her to do a complete check-up on Percy, including a paternity test on the off-chance Amos could try and find the father.

From this, Amos had gained several valuable pieces of information that had only served to confuse him further about Perseus Jackson, and why his mother would be so determined to protect him from "the monsters".

Who would hunt a _child_ down?

_Well_—he considered, tapping his pen against his chin, there was _one _reason he could think of.

But he'd know if Percy were a godling. And Desjardins, famed for his adherence to Per Ankh doctrine, had been utterly dismissive of him, the fact of his existence aside.

He would've known, if Amos couldn't see it. Wouldn't see it.

Amos looked at the forms in front of him, and ran through what he knew for a fact yet again, rubbing at his temples.

First, there was the matter of age. The pediatrician had placed Percy at roughly three and a half years, with a birthday landing somewhere in August. Relatively simple, if it weren't for the fact that public records concerning the only Perseus Jackson born August 1992 in the state of New York had no father listed. Only Sally Jackson as the mother.

The paternity test run couldn't seem to yield a solid sample either according to the pediatrician, who had been bewildered beyond belief. It hadn't even been a matter of not having the DNA on record, she had explained; they just couldn't find any non-anomalous DNA that could be linked to someone who _wasn't _Sally Jackson, let alone a potential father.

Then, there'd been the usual vaccines and tests, which had left Amos with a note recommending that Percy be tested for ADHD or ADD once he started school.

Amos had been unsurprised by this. It was already clear that the phrase _attention span _was one Percy regarded as optional, with his complex wandering tangents, difficulty listening to Amos's long-winded warnings and instructions about things such as Philip and tetchy wards—not to mention his near superhuman reflexes.

The last one was what gave him pause, though, after research of symptoms of ADHD.

Being able to almost magically stop juice spills, or constantly "have bad feelings" when demons were within two blocks of them was not on any list he found.

He was human, though. Amos _knew _Percy was human; he'd had multiple very qualified people tell him Percy was as mortal as they came, along with his own assessment. He didn't come from a lineage of magicians, he had no demon inside him, no mark of being someone's chosen. He was human.

Percy Jackson was human.

Amos looked at the forms listing off the results for Percy's reflexes, shared a brief look with Philip of Macedonia, and groaned. _And yet. _

There was something.

* * *

"Why don't I do it?" Percy suggested with all of the subtlety of a seven-year-old hyped up on the promise of sugar. "That way, neither of you have to argue over it."

_That is to say,_ Amos thought with amusement,_ none. _Four years on from Sally's death, Percy was beginning to grow up, but things like tact weren't appearing within the kid anytime soon.

At Percy's suggestion, Sadie glared with all the might and disdain of her newly six-year-old self as she possessively drew her birthday cake closer. "No. Stupidhead."

"I should still do it," Carter interjected, playing up the mysterious maturity that came with being the only one who was eight. "I'm older than both of you, I should blow out the candles."

"Shut up," Sadie and Percy said in unison before looking at each other, both of them wrinkling their noses. Ruby snickered, and her father reached for another drink as they spoke in sync again. "No, _you _shut up."

The two of them began to retread the never-ending argument over who had the right to say 'shut up' first, and Carter moved in for the cake, a wary eye on his adopted cousin and younger sister the entire time, Amos noticed approvingly. Julius, meanwhile, was laughing fondly in the corner at the chaos Sadie's birthday party had rapidly de-evolved into after dinner, glass of wine precariously in hand.

Honestly, Amos was shocked it hadn't happened sooner. Carter, Sadie, and Percy acted like siblings around each other whenever they were together; this included the delight at the addition of another friend whenever Amos and Percy came out to Los Angeles, rapidly shifting alliances of two in fights, and the age-old war over who _really _got to go first.

This, they were all learning, included birthday cakes.

Percy pushed Carter away from the cake, Sadie yanked them both back by their shirts, and Amos shared a wary look with Julius as they prepared to wade in and break things up when the birthday cake—all three layers generously covered with vanilla frosting and the much-debated candles—promptly exploded, hitting every last person in the room.

A moment of rare silence descended upon the Kane household. Then Sadie began to cry. Percy and Carter quickly added their screaming, both of them blaming each other for the explosion. Ruby's parents began to mutter, and Julius stood up resignedly.

_In retrospect,_ Amos thought as he took his glasses off to clean them as he listened to an ominous watery rushing noise from the ceiling, _perhaps we should have broken them up just a little bit earlier._

Julius and Ruby finished pulling the three children apart, and were in the process of scolding all three of them for the fighting when Ruby's mother, Edith Faust, clucked in sympathy at the sound of water rushing above them. "Oh, dear, that was your toilet, too, I imagine. Ridiculous things backing up all the time."

Her husband, Graham, only grunted and glowered at the spot where the cake had been as if it had personally offended him. Ruby frowned, the gears turning behind her bright blue eyes. "That makes no sense, we had the plumber in last month after an incident."

This was accompanied with a significant glance to imply what kind of _incident_ it was, and Amos placed a hand on Percy's shoulder to remind him to stay silent at the implication of magic.

Percy's lack of the pharaohs' blood as well as his status as Amos's ward, if worst ever came to worst, would grant him protection from the House of Life. Carter and Sadie would never be so lucky in their lives; ignorance was their best shield, for now, until they were old enough for Julius and Ruby to teach them how to defend themselves.

But it still did not explain the exploding toilet.

There was a logic to these things, and Amos couldn't figure out where the plumbing entered in a situation involving who got to blow out _birthday candles._

"But perhaps things just got a bit more out of hand than we thought," Ruby offered, her tone skeptical. Her faded London accent, Amos noted absentmindedly, was bleeding through tonight. "They are, well, _ours_."

Julius gave her a thoroughly lovestruck grin, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he walked by her. "That they are, darling."

Carter and Sadie both paused from their cake dramatics to begin gagging, and Amos dreaded the day they grew up.

"Hey! What about me, Aunt Ruby?" Percy piped up, playing the oblivious little contrarian. Despite Sadie and Carter being rather eager to be cleaned up, each using the table cloth to wipe at their faces, Percy seemed rather content to sit there and lick the frosting off his fingers.

Ruby gave him a grin, and ran her fingers through his surprisingly clean locks. "You're ours too, Perseus. Gods know you make just as much trouble."

Percy grinned widely at the full name, and straightened up at the mention of making trouble. "Yeah, I do."

For reasons Amos had never quite gotten, Ruby was always able to get away with the full name; he sometimes suspected it was linked to Ruby telling him the story of the Greek hero Perseus when he was little, and wishing for more stories about the parents no one knew about.

The day Amos had been forced to sit him down to explain how he'd come to be in Amos's care had not been a pretty one.

Ruby herded the three children upstairs, leaving Amos lost in his own thoughts as everyone else turned back to the incident involving cakes and plumbing, and Ruby's theory, which was quickly gaining traction among the magicians in the room.

It was an explanation full of holes, but what better one was there?

"It doesn't quite make sense," Julius said slowly, stroking his newly-grown goatee. "Unless I missed an earlier fight involving plumbing today? This is not chaos magic."

Amos shrugged, nothing coming to mind, but said nothing before Graham Faust chimed in—a very grudging invite on Julius's part. But they were family, and loved Carter and Sadie, if nothing else.

"What 'bout yours, Amos?" Ruby's father asked, his eyes dark with something ugly. "Already kicked out of school once, don't try and tell me that kid is—"

"He is perfectly 'normal', as you'd say," Amos interjected sharply. "Whatever you are trying to imply—don't."

"More importantly, he is a part of this family," Julius added, taking out his wand to clean up the mess created by the children. "This was simply a case of emotions running a bit too high on a happy day, and nothing more."

Ruby's father harrumphed, but said nothing more as he picked himself up to lumber upstairs. With him and Edith gone, and Ruby still upstairs with the children, the dining room fell truly quiet for the first time that evening, save for the sound of plumbing gone haywire from above.

Amos looked at Julius tiredly; his brother had a look on his face he knew far too well. "Don't say it, Julius."

His brother grimaced. "Loath as I am to admit that my father-in-law is right on anything, he may not be completely off the mark here, Amos. You never have found out what he and his mother were running from those years ago. Percy may not be blood of the pharaohs, but if he's a regular mortal, I'll eat Doughboy."

Despite the grim nature of their conversation, Amos reflexively snickered at the mention of Julius's persnickety little _shabti_. "He'll enjoy that discussion, I'm sure."

"It'll be good for him. Warty little troll," Julius grumbled.

"Why do you keep him around, if he's so deliberately bad at his job?" Amos said with a snort. Doughboy had a tendency stronger than most sentient _shabti_ of abject hatred towards his master; usually, this manifested either in extreme pedantry towards Julius's commands, or bouts of futile bloodlust and ego.

"My own dreams of world domination," Julius said, straight-faced as he activated a spell to get the pieces of frosting and candles off the ceiling. "I steal his plans and make them my own."

Amos grinned; Julius was rarely this loose outside of life-or-death situations. _He must have broken out the brandy tonight._ "Say no more. Now what do we do about the plumbing?"

Julius raised an eyebrow. "We still don't know what caused it, Amos."

"It was probably Carter or Sadie," Amos waved it off, suddenly wishing the whole mystery of the plumbing could disappear. He wasn't as sober as he could have been, and it was once again raising questions and headaches he had no idea how to answer. "And speaking of Carter and Sadie—"

"We're _not _separating them," Julius said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Ruby insisted when we decided to have kids, and I agree. They're siblings, and they won't be separated, the House of Life be damned. Not while Ruby and I are alive."

Amos blinked at the vehemence in Julius's voice, at first a little hurt that he'd think that badly of Amos's intentions towards his own family, than confused as he registered the defensiveness.

"That. . .was not what I was about to say," Amos said, giving his brother a confused look. "Did something happen today? I was only going to suggest perhaps at least making them aware of their heritage. Not separating them."

Julius froze, hand then gave a tired, drawn-out sigh, dragging his hands across his face. "Yes, actually. I'm sorry about that; one of Iskandar's people called this morning while you were out with the children."

"Ah." That would most certainly explain Julius's reaction.

"Indeed. There was much heavy hinting at the dangers of raising two children with such_ potential_ together, as well as Ruby's _visions_ regarding the gods and how _tricky_ it is to properly divine," Julius said mockingly. "It was still on my mind."

Amos bit back a comment about Ruby's visions and the dangers of consorting with the gods. There wasn't enough alcohol in Los Angeles for that conversation, and Amos at least agreed with Julius on the first count, if not the latter two. Carter and Sadie were siblings, and it was only right they be raised together by their parents.

But they were young, still. They could argue and debate the matter to death another day. For whatever disagreements they all had, none of them were going to go looking for war.

There would be time.

"Sounds like they haven't changed since I last saw Desjardins, Julius," Amos said, trying for comforting. "Fear mongering as usual, convinced that if you breath wrong during an inauspicious day that Apophis will come down upon us all."

Julius nodded in agreement. He opened his mouth to say something more, but it was cut off by a loud crash from above and what sounded suspiciously like a war cry. The two brothers shared looks.

"It was yours," they said in unison, before heading upstairs.

Amos chuckled under his breath, shoving matters of visions and chaos and mysterious parents to the back of his mind.

_There would be time._

* * *

Amos stared stone-faced at Ruby's gravestone, and silently cursed Cleopatra's Needle to the Duat and back.

Besides him, tears streamed unabashedly down Percy's face as he clung to Amos's hand.

The eight-year-old boy laid a slightly crumpled bunch of flowers down against the black stone, six feet above the empty coffin, and Amos had to fight back a sob born of rage as he remembered just _why _the coffin was empty.

Out of Ruby's vision of Apophis rising, which while perfectly terrifying, was no excuse to go haring off to Cleopatra's Needle and _free the goddess_ who had been fighting the wretched snake for millennia, Amos's world had nearly fallen down around him.

Julius's _had. _

He and Ruby had always managed to light each other up, and with Ruby _gone. . ._Amos had been reminded of a Greek philosopher's story about soulmates. A person with two heads and four arms, split into halves by the gods, and eternally seeking each other out.

And for what? A cat named Muffin, and their family scattered to the four winds.

Julius had taken his children and left the funeral service earlier that day immediately after, uncharacteristically—and very, very understandably—barely holding back from breaking down completely, much to Amos's own despair.

Since they were little, Julius had carried himself with a straight back and air of assurance in who he was.

Today? He'd slumped, not letting Carter or Sadie out of his sight. Eyes red, hands trembling, and the lines of his suit crumpled—usually unthinkable for a man like Julius Kane. It had cracked something inside Amos, to see his brother brought low like that.

He looked like he had been consigned to execution.

And maybe he had, Amos thought bitterly. The House was going to demand more of Julius yet, before they were through with this.

There were only so many magicians that could show up before Amos and Julius caught on.

They had done nothing except show up in mourning black, express condolences that may have even been genuine, but the two brothers had caught the statement made each time Carter and Sadie were asked after.

_You can't keep them._

And awful as it was, it had all been merciful, some cold, calculating part of Amos whispered.

Julius was lucky not to be executed for his crimes. Deliberate contact with the gods had been outlawed since Roman times by the Chief Lector for good reason.

His punishment would be exile, probably. Barely allowed to use magic, unable to enter the House of Life—and, Amos thought with a pang, contact its magicians.

Immediate family included. No exceptions.

Julius would, eventually, lose the future battle for custody, even if it took magical interference with the case. Amos could see it now, clear as day.

Sadie being the younger, and with Julius having a job that required such travel, would be given over to the Fausts and raised in England. Carter would be left with Julius to travel the world in his job as an Egyptologist, hounded by the House of Life until the two came of age, blissfully unaware of the heritage burning through their veins.

Amos would only be able to interfere very minimally, both due to what he stood to lose if Iskandar chose to look too long into all the children the Kanes claimed as theirs, and because. . ._well._

Separating Carter and Sadie, from a purely practical standpoint, was most likely for the best.

Amos let out a shuddering breath at the thought, blinked furiously at the stinging wind. Then, he gently pulled Percy away after he finished saying his final goodbyes to his aunt, and the two walked down the empty London street, guilt burning furiously in Amos's chest at his own thoughts and future inaction.

If he ever said it in the coming months out loud, Amos would never be forgiven; he'd never be trusted again, not fully. Julius would certainly accuse him of hypocrisy, asking what he would want in his position, if the House of Life were to demand one of _his _children.

Amos looked down at the young boy beside him with the messy black hair, already planning on how to convince Khufu to become a temporary Knicks fan for Christmas Day in three weeks to help distract Percy, and ruthlessly swallowed down that guilt until he almost choked on it.

Not to mention the thought that accompanied that guilt.

_Julius would not be wrong._

* * *

That night, and every night afterward for a long time, Amos would sit in front of the statue of Thoth within Brooklyn House after Percy went to sleep.

Sometimes, he planned. For the next day, the upcoming month, any visitors to the Nome.

Sometimes, he did more research. For wards, for finding wayward parents, for Carter and Sadie's safety.

Sometimes, Amos just hoped.

* * *

Percy Jackson—or Perseus Kane, depending on who was asked around Brooklyn—didn't feel all that bad about being kicked out of school again, all things considered.

Especially when he was pretty sure that being kicked out of six schools in six years had to be some sort of world record, and when it wasn't even _his fault._

Okay, some of the time, excepting that time with the cannon and the school bus.

Or the time with the catwalk over the pool, or that one weird math test and the poodle that hadn't been a poodle. . .

_Fine,_ Percy internally grumbled, _it's usually my fault_.

But there were extenuating circumstances, as Uncle Amos always put it. And he never seemed to get upset with Percy for being expelled anyway. Just confused about how Percy had managed it, and sometimes sad. He always said he didn't blame Percy, but it just somehow made him feel even guiltier as he went to recover his pride with Khufu.

Who would then kick his ass in basketball anyway, but Percy still loved him. Even if he did root for the Lakers.

As it stood, Uncle Amos seemed to blame the principal for this one; they had left Lone Oak Charter School twenty minutes ago, and he was still grumbling under his breath as they took the long 'round back to Brooklyn, avoiding Manhattan completely.

For reasons he was never quite clear about with Percy, he always refused to enter that borough, even if it forced them to go through the worst city traffic in all of New England.

"Uncle Amos?" Percy asked tentatively, cutting off muttering about computers and teachers making accommodations_. _"Where am I going to go now?"

". . .and computers, I ask you—hmm? Ah, right," Uncle Amos said briskly as he rounded a corner with ease to cut off someone else, who swore fluently at them with enough verve to make twelve-year-old Percy jealous. "To be honest, Percy, I had already planned to pull you out before Winter Break, anyway, considering this school's lack of help for dyslexic students. I found another place that I think will work for you, and will let you start next term."

Percy sure hoped it did. He was sick of constantly being the new kid on the block, even if he had the routine down pat by now on earning a rep that wasn't _lunch meat_. "What's it called?"

"Yancy. Yancy Academy, they teach grades six through eight," Uncle Amos explained, not missing a beat as he ran a red light, "You'll like it, I think. They had me talking with the Latin teacher, Mrs. Sherwood, and she seemed very good at her job. Certainly happy to have someone like you in her class."

"Really? They have a whole Latin class? " Percy asked, brightening at the thought of no longer being stuck in Civics. He'd always liked Greek and Roman mythology, ever since Aunt Ruby had told him the story of Perseus when he was little and she'd still been alive.

It was one of the few clear memories he had of her, but he still felt like it had been yesterday he'd miserably asked her why his parents would name him something weird like Perseus. Since then, he had always liked the stories, and more than that, the idea that his mother had chosen to name him after one of those heroes. That she believed in him that much.

At this, something twisted in Percy's gut at the idea of the mother he never knew. Like usual.

Uncle Amos had told him about how he'd found Percy, of course, and he was impossibly grateful his mother hadn't let him be spit into the system.

Aunt Ruby and Uncle Julius had never treated him any differently from Carter or Sadie when they were little, and Percy couldn't imagine not being raised by anyone but Uncle Amos, but sometimes, Percy wanted to know his mom so bad it ached somewhere hollow.

As for his father, Percy had considerably more complicated, _I-don't-know-if-I-want-him-to-be-dead-or-not-and-does-that-make-me-bad-if-I-do_ feelings.

Amos continued to talk, oblivious to Percy's thoughts. "From what I've seen and been told, your Latin teacher's excellent. A bit by-the-book, but loves her subject."

"Nice," Percy breathed out, before his mind happily switched tracks as they passed by a Sweet On America store. "Hey, can we stop by the grocery store on the way back? I need to buy some Jell-O for Khufu and more bacon for Philip, and Christmas is only four days away."

Sad as it probably was, the baboon and magical crocodile were Percy's closest friends, excepting Sadie and Carter. But he never really saw either these days, save for the rare phone call, and when Percy could fly to London for one of Carter and Uncle Julius's visits with Sadie.

Strangely, Uncle Amos always managed to find an excuse for not coming with him. But Percy usually forgot quickly, what with the Annual Incidents They Would Never Speak About happening like clockwork between Julius and the Fausts.

"You do realize the house will supply just about any food they want, right?" Amos said dryly, even as he switched directions for the last-minute errand.

"C'mon, Uncle!" Percy pleaded, breaking out his bonafide Big Sad Puppy Eyes Khufu had been helping with, "Please?"

"Just because it's Christmas, Percy."

Percy let a whoop, and then a cackle as a driver somehow even more aggressive than Uncle Amos nearly took the front license plate off speeding, and Uncle Amos began to swear in Egyptian.

They were both silenced in turn by the loud boom of thunder that left Percy's ears ringing.

"What was _that?" _Percy said flabbergasted, his eyes wide as he rolled down the window to get a better look at the sky. On the sidewalk, people pointing at something up in the sky. Percy looked up, and his jaw dropped.

Off in the distance, he could make out the silhouette of the Empire State Building, with white and purple lightning crackling around the spire. Imposing storm clouds seemed to gather around it in an ever-expanding disc, with whispy dark tendrils clawing into the bright blue sky. Percy could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end at the electricity in the air.

For one odd moment, as he stared at the building, he felt terrified right in the depths of his tiny little lizard brain. But there was something else, too, he felt a sense of almost—longing.

Like there was a part of him there, waiting in the Empire State Building.

And it was telling Percy to come and get it back right _now._

A hand landed on Percy's shoulder. He blinked, and the moment melted away as he was pulled back into the car by a silent Uncle Amos. He looked up at the magician, questioning. Hoping that whatever answer he got would explain that strange feeling.

"A storm," Uncle Amos finally said, his face grim as he stared down the Empire State Building. "It's a storm, Percy."

* * *

**A/N: **Alright, you mad Internet people, you wanted more, you get more, LET'S DO THIS.

(I maaaaay need sleep)

For those that don't understand, I published a short thing that's in the distant future of this universe, and some people liked it, so I of course pound out an update too late at night. This was originally going to be a one-shot, but then it exploded, so I decided to go with the flow. A lot happens in TKC, I only cover _The Red Pyramid_ in this one, and Amos decided he has a lot to say. Now it's a slightly weird prequel full of dramatic irony and too many action scenes I can't write and oblivious magicians who can't put two and two together.

And yes, I fudged the timelines to place Percy between the Kane siblings (As well as everyone else; Annabeth is still Percy's age, etc). The reason for the age difference in canon is because it corresponds to when Riordan writes the books, so I had no compunctions switching it up._  
_

If you've stuck with me through this rambling A/N, as always, thank you so much, and feel free to tell me what you think if you wish!

(I'm about to go sleep for fourteen hours somewhere, don't mind me)


	2. The Crocodile God

**Disclaimer:** I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson, or the Kane Chronicles.

**Warnings:** Swearing, self-edited, above-canon levels of violence (Which aren't described in detail or lingered on, but major injuries are mentioned).

* * *

_"I am a great believer in found families, and I'm not a great believer in blood."_

_-Joss Whedon_

* * *

Percy woke up, and fervently wished for the sweet release of death at the tender age of thirteen.

He rolled over onto his side and tried to tell Sadie as much, but it didn't work for three reasons: First, all that came out of his throat were the noises Muffin made when she saw a bird—or Percy for the first time, but _they didn't talk about it, Sadie, shut up_.

Second, Sadie was still out cold from the Rosetta Stone freaking exploding.

_That was a problem,_ Percy thought dimly as he spit dust out of his mouth.

Last, the Nephthys amulet he had on this week for protection rotation seemed to be actively strangling him—which, honestly, Percy wouldn't have been that surprised. He had yet to figure out how to tell Uncle Amos that lately if he wore amulets for too long they seemed to get tetchy in a way Percy couldn't quite put his finger on.

They did the job, sure, but it always seemed to be pretty grudging after the first couple days. But it still was better than being eaten alive by something twice his size with too many teeth or catching some obscure curse that'd leave him with blue warts in uncomfortable places.

Percy bit back another groan, both from the weirdness of his life and another wave of pain._  
_

Eventually, he realized that the noise he was hearing wasn't just from his bimonthly concussion, but instead gleeful laughter. He pushed himself up by his stinging elbows to find the source, and got a good look at the destruction Uncle Julius had wreaked on the British Museum in the process.

Percy was impressed, to be honest. He always appreciated a good explosion.

His admiration took a quick backseat, though, when he saw just what the laughter was coming from.

Or, to be precise, _who. _

Percy shared a glance with a semi-conscious Carter, and looked back at the fiery silhouette of a man standing between them and Sadie and Carter's father. Surprisingly, Uncle Julius's shield was intact, but he was still wary as he stared down the god whose laughter cut through Percy to the bone.

Percy really, _really _hoped he was misremembering the myths Uncle Amos had pounded into his head over the years to save his non-magical skin.

"Well done, Julius, well done," Maybe Set chuckled. "Really, this all could not have been more spectacular. You have my admiration."

"You were not summoned!" Uncle Julius roared. "Back to the Duat with you, Set! I possess the power of the Great King!"

"Ooh, scary," Definitely Set, _fuck,_ mocked. "But I think not. Even if you knew how to channel that power, I was always the strongest of us five."

Percy's eyes widened, and he started pulling Sadie behind a column, directing Carter back with a jerk of his chin. Carter hesitated, reaching for a shard of rock, but one quick glance of warning from Uncle Julius stopped him, much to Percy's relief.

In a showdown between Osiris and Set, they were good for nothing but good old-fashioned cannon fodder.

Sadie started to whimper as she woke up, and Carter clapped a hand over her mouth. She struggled as she came to before freezing at the sight before her.

Alarms wailed throughout the gallery as it burned, and Percy's head throbbed as he tried to come up with a way out. _Think, think, think, there has to be a way out of this. _

"You will not win, Set. I will not let you leave here free."

Set chuckled derisively. "A nice little threat there, but you were never my match, Osiris. And Julius? You will share his fate."

Uncle Julius extended his staff before throwing it to the ground. It turned into a ten foot snake with red eyes, and Percy winced. Somehow, he knew immediately that it was a futile gesture, despite never actually getting to use a staff.

His gut instinct was proved right when Set grabbed it by the neck and turned it to ashes; Percy began to feel dizzy again, which wasn't helped by the voice in his head shouting at him to take Sadie and Carter and _run._

"An old trick, Julius. Is that all you have?" Set chided. The god was starting to look more solid by the second, and Uncle Julius's sure facade of rage was beginning to crack.

Besides Percy, Sadie picked up a piece of stone, and Percy reached for his own, a long, sharp piece with some weird line about the "King of South and North" on it, telling the voice in his head to shut it. He wasn't leaving his family.

"How many?" Uncle Julius asked quickly, his eyes flickering to the three Kanes hiding behind the column. Even from the distance, Percy could tell his gaze dropped to the amulets the three of them wore. "How many were released?"

Percy resisted the urge to bang his head against something. _Why can I never be wrong when it's convenient? Gods are released. Great._

"Why, all five of course!" Set exclaimed gleefully. "We are a package deal, after all. Soon, I will release even more, and they will be quite grateful, I assure you. I shall be named king in the coming days, at last reborn anew."

"The Demon Days?" Uncle Julius scoffed. "The House will stop you in time."

Set laughed again. "The House? The _House? _Those doddering fools, stop me? They're weak, and incapable of anything but division amongst themselves."

"You underestimate mortals, Set. You always have. They'll find a way."

"We shall see, dear brother," Set looked delighted at this challenge. "But first, let the story be told anew. And this time, you shall never rise!"

_The story?_ Percy thought confusedly. _But_._ . .oh no. Oh__** no.**_

With a flick of Set's hands, an Egyptian coffin formed around Uncle Julius, rapidly solidifying into solid gold. Another quick gesture, and it sank through the floor. Horrified, Percy yelled, "No!"

"Dad!" Carter screamed. Sadie threw her stone, but it sailed right over Set's head. He turned around, and for one horrifying moment, Percy couldn't breath. What he saw in the flames made no sense.

Two faces were somehow imposed on top of each other; one was an angular human face with a cruel smile, while the other a wolf-like dog who had a glowing red gaze that made Percy flinch.

Set lunged at them, throwing Percy and Sadie across the room easily, but when he closed in on Carter, something threw him back onto the ground.

Sprawled on the ground, Percy watched as Set studied Carter carefully, before hissing, "So. . .it's _you."_

For a moment, Percy didn't understand, before he noticed the way Carter's amulet, the Eye of Horus, seemed to be _glowing_. Percy's own amulet, in contrast, was somehow still cool in a room on fire. He looked at Sadie, and sure enough, her amulet, a tyet, was also shining dimly in too many colors to name.

Something danced on the edge of his mind, something that he knew was very, very bad, but before he could remember what it was, he heard heavy footsteps and orders being barked.

The building shook, and the wall on the opposite end of the room exploded into a bright flash of light. A distantly familiar middle-aged man and a girl near Percy's age stepped through the portal. Both of them were dressed in robes, with wands hanging from their belts.

Set snarled, looking at Carter one more time. "Soon, boy."

The entire room exploded into flames. The force of the explosion knocked the air out of Percy's lungs, and he collapsed to the floor alongside Sadie and Carter.

As he danced near the ledge of unconsciousness, Percy could hear security guards getting closer, and was able to stay awake long enough to see the two magicians tower over them. The girl pulled out a long curved knife, saying to someone Percy finally realized was Michel Desjardins, "We must kill them now."

"No, not yet," Desjardins said, his facial expression cold as he looked on at the cousins. "We must be sure, first."

Before he could hear any more, yell at Desjardins to get some perspective, or tell the girl to get the scary knife away from his face, Percy blacked out.

* * *

Immediately upon waking up, Percy ran to the bathroom and vomited, muscle memory carrying him through the dizziness as his stomach cramped.

As he gagged into the toilet, he felt a familiar hand smooth his hair back, and Percy dimly realized that he was somehow back in Brooklyn House.

"Easy there, Percy. Better in than out, as they say," Uncle Amos murmured, keeping him from tipping over completely. Percy tossed up his breakfast in response, and Uncle Amos gave a fond chuckle. _Stupid concussions._

After he finished retching, Percy weakly sagged against the wall, grimacing at the taste in his mouth. "Did that really happen, or did I get hit harder than I thought?"

Uncle Amos leaned back and stood up, offering a hand to Percy in turn. Something was tight and fragile in his body language as he spoke. "Julius summoning a god? Yes."

"And the explosions and flaming hellscape and. . ." Lost for words, Percy waved his hands to indicate Set and all the word-ending threats and other fun stuff.

Uncle Amos took a deep breath, and as they made for the kitchen, gave Percy a bottle of green potion that he knew from experience both tasted like grass and would work like a charm for concussion symptoms in a pinch. _So, we're about an eleven out of ten right now. _

"It worked," Uncle Amos explained, "But he got more than he bargained for. All five siblings were summoned."

He gave Percy a significant look as he gagged down the green stuff. Percy rolled his eyes. "Osiris, Set, Horus, Isis and—Nephthys, right?"

"Excellent," Uncle Amos praised as he toasted a pair of bagels, "All five of them have been released, and I suspect a few of them are still looking for hosts. The story is retelling itself again."

"Wait, the story? Hosts?"

"Set, within whoever he chooses to possess, is reaching for the throne and Osiris—Julius—is dead. Horus will seek to avenge him, and Isis will help. To do that, they will seek out mortals. Who knows what side the wife will fall on," Uncle Amos muttered this last sentence to himself, but Percy was still caught on the first part.

"Wait, Uncle Julius—_dead?" _Percy repeated, his voice catching on the last word. The bitter taste from before was back, and it had nothing to do with a concussion this time.

"He was sealed within a golden coffin, wasn't he?" Uncle Amos guessed shrewdly, a slightly unsettling gleam in his eyes. "Sent into the Duat by someone as powerful as he? Not even a god will survive that unscathed, Percy."

"Oh," Percy said miserably. Uncle Julius was gone. Or at least, was no longer someone Percy had. The brilliant magician who Percy had known was gone, merged with the navy-skinned god of the afterlife.

Uncle Julius was _blue. _Blue and dead.

"I'll be leaving shortly to retrieve Sadie and Carter, seeing as they're about to be arrested by Scotland Yard. Once I bring them here, you can explain everything to them as I go looking for Set," Uncle Amos said briskly, finishing his bagel and standing up abruptly as Percy tried to staunch his grief. "Be sure to protect them, Percy. The House of Life will want them dead if they find out what they are."

"W-What—_where?"_ Percy stuttered incredulously. "How do you know where to look?"

Uncle Amos didn't answer, instead muttering a spell to clean things up, and Percy blinked at the red hieroglyphs floating through the air, alarm bells going off inside his head; Uncle Amos's magic was blue. He knew this as well as he knew his own hair color. He'd learned why more recently.

Most magicians using magic—more precisely, magic within the realm of Ma'at—produced blue hieroglyphs. Anyone vaguely familiar with Egyptian magic knew that.

Percy had never seen red hieroglyphs before. And he had a sinking feeling he might know why.

"Uncle Amos, is there any reason that your magic—"

"Arizona, my apologies," Uncle Amos interrupted, a strange look on his face Percy couldn't quite figure out. Like he was conflicted over something. "Phoenix, to be precise. Deserts are where he is strongest, and a phoenix reborn would have strong symbolism for the Red Lord."

Percy huffed. "Okay, then. When will you be—"

"No more than six hours. Don't leave the house, and stay close to Philip and Khufu until then," he said, almost robotically as he hustled out of the kitchen.

_Because it's not like you've left me alone before, _Percy thought as he rolled his eyes, but said nothing as Uncle Amos stepped out over the edge and disappeared.

"The jury's still out on the weirdest part of the last twenty-four hours, everyone," Percy said to the dead air.

Philip splashed the surface of the pool with his tail, and Percy threw him a piece of frozen bacon before going to change into street clothes that weren't covered in dust and puke. Maybe his passport as well, just in case. If Amos Kane was going to go MIA on the other side of the freaking country while acting so weird, _someone _was going to have to look out for his cousins.

Who, if Percy had read that super strange conversation right, may or may not have gotten gods stuck in their heads.

* * *

Then they were all nearly executed anyway, but Percy at least got his hands on a staff, wand, and kit that he didn't really know how to use.

Considering how they were clearly brand-new, he figured Desjardins wouldn't miss them. Or at the very least, was too busy trying to kill them for breaking into his house and siccing demon fruit bats on themselves to care. And also Percy might have blown up his house. Just a little.

Mostly on accident.

Again, _demon fruit bats. _Percy felt a little arson was justified.

"SAW!" Sadie shrieked, still trapped as a kite, and not impressed with Percy's take.

Right, and he may have also caused the toilets to explode. Percy still wasn't quite sure how that happened.

Then the remains of Desjardins's house were blasted away, revealing two bald men in black coats with glowing staffs. They looked very much like magicians, and very angry.

"Someone get an exit strategy, now," Carter said sharply. He sheathed his staff as Sadie managed to shift back into a human, stumbling as she regained her balance.

"Really, Percy? How'd you manage to blow up the bloody rich person plumbing?" she asked annoyedly, her British accent thick.

"We can judge his methods later. We need to go to the Louvre!" Bast, formerly Sadie's cat Muffin—because _that_ made sense—grabbed Carter and Percy's hands, and they took off through the cold rain. "It has the closest exit portal."

Their feet pounded against the slippery pavement, and the sound of Percy's heartbeat in his ears was drowned out only by the buzzing of the fruit bat horde on their heels and his increasingly creative gasps of cursing.

As they raced across the plaza flanked by the wings of the Louvre, and Bast yelled instructions to Sadie as they made for the glass pyramid at the entrance, Carter slowed down enough to draw his wand from his bag, angrily throwing it at a bat as the horde converged about them, nipping at their arms and buzzing all around their heads.

Percy wondered just one was gonna do, until the wand glowed white and spun around like a boomerang to take out nearly a dozen fruit bats. Carter gave him a grin as Percy drew his own wand and followed suit.

Then he got hit in the head with his own wand after hitting two bats. Because of _course _he could never make a spell work properly.

Carter made short work of the horde, but the two magicians were still coming, turning around the corner just as Sadie conjured the portal with a cry of "America!", forming a swirling sand vortex at the top of the glass pyramid.

"Climb, kittens!" Bast commanded. It was easy for her to say, Percy thought. She was a freaking _cat._

"It's too far up and too steep, we can't make it!" Carter protested.

Bast cocked her head, and then nodded. "Then I'll just toss all of you."

Percy only had time to share a look of brief, shared trepidation with Carter before Bast hoisted the two of them up by the backs of their t-shirts and hurled them into the vortex of hot sand.

For a moment, Percy couldn't process anything but the blinding heat, and then he and Carter were dumped back into the cool air of a dim grey room. The two of them staggered to their feet, only to nearly fall over again as they saw the view from the metal-lined windows.

"Holy cow," Carter breathed. "We're in Washington, D.C. That's a _view."_

Percy nodded in agreement, despite feeling uneasy with how far they were off the ground, and as they dusted themselves off and moved out of the way for Bast and Sadie, Carter let out a slightly hysterical laugh. "So. That sequence of events happened."

"Yeah. Bats."

"Fruit bats."

_"Demon fruit bats."_

"If Desjardins is Set's host, I hope this doesn't become a theme," Carter said as he pulled out his staff and wand as he began to inspect them, the latter of which was smoking.

"I dunno. Magic's weird. Maybe Brooklyn House should enlist some demon fruit bat defenses," Percy suggested, only half joking. He was sick and tired of his home being razed every so often.

"Come on, you can do better than _fruit bats,"_ Carter groaned. "Especially considering Desjardins did it first; he probably could break through in five minutes. What about replicating Phil or something? He's a _shabti, _after all."

Percy shrugged. "I think Phil's free and sentient at this point; he can't really be cloned. Uncle Amos has had him since before me. He can also be bribed. That, meanwhile, was a proper _horde."_

"Yeah, but none of us need more nightmare fuel. Do, I don't know, sphinxes or griffins. Magicians used them to protect stuff in ancient times. Not demon fruit bat abominations." Carter shuddered again. "Never again."

"But that's the point, they're not normal, and terrifying as large groups," Percy argued, possibly more gleefully than was warranted. "Everyone else would get the nightmare fuel, not us. Er, well, anyone in Brooklyn House, anyways."

He mentally kicked himself at the pronoun slip. There wasn't an _us. _Not outside his lonely little head.

Before the British Museum, he hadn't seen Carter or Sadie in a year; he wasn't their brother, or even their cousin, really. It didn't matter if the past two days, terrifying as it had been, had also been the first times in a while that Percy hadn't felt lonely without Khufu or Philip. It didn't matter that Sadie felt like his blonder, equally sarcastic twin, and Carter seemed like his brother in truth.

"Yeah, but you don't worry about the mere fact the bats exist. I'd certainly feel safer with griffins in Brooklyn House," Carter said. Percy hummed in response, pretending that he wasn't hoping beyond ridiculous hope that Sadie and Carter could live in Brooklyn House. It didn't matter.

The terrifying bits mattered. They were what had taken everything from the two of them, and what had sent them halfway across the world.

This was the whole point of their quest. The three of them stopped Set from taking over the world, and Carter and Sadie got Uncle Julius back, while Percy went back to Brooklyn House, and figured out if he could become a real magician that didn't just blow people's houses up to get out of trouble.

But before either of them could say anything more, Bast and Sadie finally came tumbling through the portal. Bast landed—well, like a cat, while Sadie would've collapsed to the ground if Carter and Percy hadn't caught her. They eased her to the ground, and Percy quickly took her pulse, sighing in relief when he found a strong heartbeat.

"Apologies for the delay, Carter and Percy," Bast said briskly. "Unexpected holdup. House of Life magicians are so rude. Where did we land?"

Carter jerked a thumb to window. "Washington, DC. Was that on purpose?"

Bast's eyebrows raised, and she launched into a lecture about Ma'at, and the power within the form of an obelisk, and how that made the Washington Monument the default portal exit for magicians who had just broken into the house of the Chief Lector and didn't have time to come up with something specific.

If Percy was being honest, it was kind of interesting to hear from a goddess's perspective, even if the small room and inevitable boredom pressing down was beginning to make him twitchy.

Some time later, Sadie shuddered, and woke up. Carter eased her up, asking her if she was okay.

She glared at him, and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, futilely trying to tame it. "Brother dear, I just conjured two magical portals after being chased by too many bats and angry bald men with terrible beard sense because I have a goddess demanding ultimate power every thirty seconds stuck in my head and _she made me eat insects_. I'm taking a shower than never thinking about this day again."

Carter mouthed 'She's fine' at Percy, who snickered as Sadie nevertheless accepted Carter's hand up.

If he had just spent a couple hours stuck as a bird, he'd probably be _worse._

* * *

Fortunately, it took half a day before things got even weirder, instead of a few hours—sure, there had been the Set Animal that had nearly destroyed the airport, solidifying Percy's belief that airplanes were a terrible thing, but blowing up buildings was par for the coruse at this point.

After hitching a ride on an Amtrak train and Bast "borrowing" an RV in New Orleans, their strange questing group had rumbled down Interstate Ten in Texas, bound to the Rio Grande to try and find Nephthys.

It had been so boring that Percy had been a hair away from wishing for something to show up and try to eat them.

And now they were doing _this. _Whatever _this _was.

"What are we doing again?" Percy asked, hoping that if Bast explained the world would make a bit more sense.

Percy had figured that things couldn't get more insane than being hunted down by the House of Life, with their only possible protection possibly being a fire elementalist who might kill them on principle, whom Carter may or may not be crushing on in the process.

Bad. The crush was so, so bad, and Percy was torn between sympathy and demanding bleach.

Despite himself, Percy facepalmed at the memory of walking in on Carter trying to flirt via history facts with Zia Rashid in Luxor, and immediately regretted it as more sweat went everywhere in the stifling Texas heat.

There was also Texas. Percy didn't really like Texas. Nothing against J.D. Grissom and his crew, who were pretty awesome in Percy's opinion, but the heat made Percy think longingly of a New York winter.

If Percy ever figured out the god responsible for humidity_, _he was going to figure out how to pull a Set.

Bast frowned as she began again, oblivious to Percy's internal whinging. "El Paso is centered around the Rio Grande—a river civilization in the desert, and much like Egypt, actually! Er, except for Mexico being next door instead of Libya. But I do think this is the best spot to try and summon Nephthys."

"And we're looking for her because?"

"We need Set's true name in order to banish him back into the Duat as well as the Feather of Truth that Sadie gained from Anubis, and she's the only person who knows, as Set's wife."

"Right, and why did you park us up on the mountain again?" Sadie asked, staring down at the river far below, cheeks stained pink at the reference to Anubis. Percy bit down the urge to snicker, remembering how she had singed Carter's eyebrows off in yesterday's mock duel.

"I'm a cat, my dear," Bast sniffed. "We like to be high as possible, in case of traps."

Sadie and Percy sighed in unison, Khufu made an unflattering noise, and Carter muttered, "Great, we're set if we have to pounce."

Two magicians, a mortal, a cat goddess, and Khufu the baboon began to walk down the mountain to the river, and Percy wondered silently when his life had become such a bad "walk into a bar" joke. Bast made a comment to Sadie about watching out for hippos and crocodiles in North America, and Percy gave it up as he adjusted the belt holding his dagger in place, still covered in blood from Leroy the Set Animal—still trapped in the Duat by Carter, he hoped.

Eventually, they made it down the American side of the river, and Percy watched as Bast directed Sadie, as the host of Isis, on what to do to call for her from across the Duat.

Sadie cautiously put her hand out, letting her finger tips skim the surface of the water. The blue dyed tips of her frizzy hair fell across her face as she concentrated, and a hushed silence fell upon them.

"Well?" Bast asked. Sadie shushed her. For a moment, there was nothing. Then Percy nearly jumped at the sound of Sadie whispering loudly in his ear.

_Nephthys? Are you there?_

Percy looked at Sadie, but her mouth was closed. Carter and Khufu hadn't reacted, either. He was ready to shrug it off as his mind playing tricks on him when things got weirder.

_Nephthys?_

Percy frowned. For a second, he wondered if he should say something. Then, another female voice chimed in.

_Nearby, sister. _

Percy did jump this time as the voice that had been characterizing his sense of self-preservation ever since the British Museum began talking in his head. His hand automatically flew to the protective amulet around his throat on reflex, and he froze.

The amulet that was the symbol of _Nephthys,_ and that he had worn when the five children of Nut and Geb had been released. Percy ran through the list in his head, dread on him like a stone.

_Horus, Carter._

_Isis, Sadie._

_Osiris, Uncle Julius._

_Set, probably Desjardins._

_Nephthys. . ._

Percy buried his face in his hands, trying to fight the urge to scream. No. No way. It wasn't _possible._

He pressed his palms against his forehead as if he could dig the goddess in his head out, and muttered words in Egyptian he wasn't supposed to know.

It wasn't even a matter of claiming it just didn't happen. It _could _not happen with people who weren't descended from the pharaohs. He should be dead. Or crazy. Or crazy and dead.

"But that doesn't make any sense," Sadie muttered to herself. "Nearby? The only ones here are us, and the resident god-in-a-cans are all accounted for."

Percy lifted his head and met Bast's knowing gaze, fighting the irrational urge to turn tail and run as she spoke, her face inscrutable as she studied him. "Not _all _of them, dear."

Sadie's eyes snapped open, confused. "But the only people here are you, me, Carter, Percy, and Khufu."

"Sadie," Percy said in what he thought was a remarkably restrained voice. "I might have just remembered that I was wearing an amulet that's the symbol of Nephthys at the British Museum?"

Despite clearly having suspected, Bast still let out a string of Egyptian and strange yowling sounds at the confirmation. Sadie's jaw dropped, her eyes wide as dinner plates as she stuttered, "But, but. . .blood of the pharaohs? What, how?"

"That is the question, isn't it," Bast said quietly. "How are you still alive?"

"Cleopatra went crazy!" Sadie exclaimed. "King Tut _died, _and he was blood of the pharaohs so—"

"How am I not dead or insane?" Percy finished, feeling slightly hysterical. "I don't know, let's ask the goddess who decided this was a good idea. Nephthys? Any words of wisdom? A sick note?"

He waited for the voice from earlier to return, hopeful for some tell-all statement to explain why the immortal lady was in the only involved mortal's head. She spoke a moment later, and Percy wondered why he actually expected a real explanation.

_If you do not know, I cannot tell you,_ she said, sounding nearly defensive._ If you know, you would not ask._

He repeated it out loud, feeling very confused. Bast said nothing, but her gaze was far too calculating for Percy's liking.

"I got nothing," Sadie said with a frown, "Even Isis is less cryptic than that. . .oh yes you are, don't even start."

Percy's eyebrows raised at this, and Sadie pointed at her head annoyedly in explanation. "Someone got offended over the truth. Maybe Carter could decode your god?"

It was then Percy realized that normally Carter—and Khufu, for that matter—would have long since chimed in. He finally looked up from the river in time to hear Khufu's yowling and Carter's screeching yell of "Help!"

Percy turned to see his cousin fighting a crocodile twice as big as he was. The beast's twin then exploded out of the water, right at Percy. He went flying, landing on the opposite river bank, right in the mud and leaving him breathless. Half in the water, he recovered surprisingly quickly, and Percy sprang back on his feet in time to have the breath knocked out him all over again by the sight of Sadie out cold, blood all over her face.

In front of her, Bast desperately battled one of the two giant crocodiles. In a falcon-headed avatar that was ten feet tall, Carter kept pace with the other, but the middle of the river was boiling.

Both Percy and Nephthys knew what that meant.

Percy clenched his jaw, didn't think, and walked into the river until he was up to his knees, ignoring the warnings of the river goddess as a horrible figure rose out of the water.

The crocodile god. One of Ra's enforcers when he had ruled, and one of the strongest warriors in the godly lineup there were.

_Sobek is a brute of a god, and you are still very mortal. He will snap you in half. This is a terrible idea,_ Nephthys warned, apparently deciding that she liked being hosted more than being chronically cryptic. _Aren't you listening? He will kill you._

"Then he kills me!" Percy snapped. "As long as it means Carter and Sadie can get away in time."

He then took a good look at him, and Percy decided he was doomed, dry shorts and all.

Sobek was twenty feet tall, all flesh and blood for a change; being right in your domain allowed you to manifest, Percy remembered sourly. Most of him was human, save for his head, which was that of a crocodile, with a massive mouth full of three-inch teeth. Bull's horns curved from his head, and oily sweat poured off him in torrents as he raised his staff, which was the size of a telephone poll.

Carter barely ducked the swing as it instead left a five-foot deep mark on the bank. Carter's avatar flickered, and Bast took another blow as she defended him and Sadie. Percy gulped, and asked Nephthys for advice.

_You chose this yourself,_ she reminded him primly. _You can clearly get out of it yourself._

_And what happens if I die again? _he groused.

_I find another host, one more suited to me in temperament._

_Yeah, but you get wiped off the earth first. Now help me out here._

A terrifying moment passed, and nothing. Percy realized that he was going to be forced to watch an exhausted Carter face down Sobek, and the feeling of helplessness almost knocked him off his feet. Briefly, he wondered if this was anything like how his mother felt like the night she died, pursued by the mysterious monster.

Which had been killed, eventually. Percy could buy time at least, magician or no.

Despite knowing magic for years, Percy had only started using it a few days ago, and he had no talent for it, unlike Carter or Sadie. Without divine help, a year or so's worth of training in five seconds, a very big sword, or the willingness to do something very stupid, he was practically helpless.

_Correct. _

_Oh, we're back now, are we? _Percy asked sarcastically. _Did you bring popcorn?_

_I will help as best as I can,_ Nephthys said severely, ignoring his snark._ As a mortal without the king's blood, you will be limited in what I can offer you without your soul burning up. But you listen to everything I say, whether it lines up with your reckless aims or not. I have no wish to return to the Duat so soon._

Percy nodded, and waded deeper into the water. He then almost jumped out of it as he suddenly felt completely energized.

It was like he'd slept for eight hours, had breakfast, and a couple Cokes right before the sports game of his life, and Percy felt great, even if he officially had no idea what was going on.

"Alright, hit me up here," he said out loud.

_Firstly, do not say that. Second, the most important thing to remember is Sobek understands nothing but strength. You cannot back down against him, and do not, under any circumstances, let him grasp you, or he will try and drown you. I will protect you, but you must rely on your own innate power to best him. _

"What innate power? I'm the weakling here!" Percy complained.

_If you must ask, I cannot tell you, _Nephthys reminded him. _I am bound by laws greater than you could conceive._

"Helpful. Thanks," he muttered. He watched Carter manage to headbutt Sobek, sending him back into the water, only for the god to quickly rise again, looking exhilarated by it all.

_Take note of it,_ Nephthys advised, apparently in full advisor mode now._ You must be strong, but do not be Horus. Do not be reckless. Use wisdom in your strategy._

Percy took in a deep breath, and right as Carter's avatar flickered out, yelled, "Hey! Ugly crocodile dude, over here if you wanna punch above your weight class!"

_That is not what I mean by strength, Perseus._

Sobek turned around, and gave Percy a terrifying toothy grin. "More prey? Excellent! Come here, Nephthys! You always were the weakest of the five, but you will make an excellent victory!"

"Uh, keep telling yourself that if you want!" Percy yelled back awkwardly. He hadn't actually expected Sobek to talk _back. _The sheer terror that made it hard to breathe increased.

"I will kill you quickly, my lady!"

Nephthys was not impressed by this, judging from the violent image she dropped into Percy's head. Neither was Percy, who quickly examined the idea, thoroughly agreed with it. He took a deep breath and reached out his hands, clenching them into fists, raising them in front of him.

The water swirled around him as Nephthys created a barrier against Sobek's crocodile minions, her power cool as a summer breeze. Sobek laughed. "This is pathetic! Is this all your godling has, Nephthys?"

On some distinctly non-Nephthys instinct, Percy swung quickly with his left fist, and then the other, and he felt his gut twist.

Corresponding five foot tall spheres of water formed and sent Sobek flying twenty feet. The crocodile god stumbled to his feet, speechless. Bast gave an appreciative whistle as she drew out her knives, and Carter—or was it Horus?—gave a gleeful battle cry, the avatar reforming around them.

Percy Jackson grinned madly, shaking dust from the hike off of his bone-dry hair.


	3. The Red Snake

**Disclaimer:** I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson, or the Kane Chronicles.

**Warnings:** Swearing, self-edited, unreliable narrator at time—nothing terrible, solely pertains to Percy's powers—and above-canon levels of violence.

* * *

_"In my heart there was a kind of fighting that would not let me sleep."_

_-Hamlet, _William Shakespeare

* * *

Percy stumbled back into the muddy reeds, gasping for breath as his legs remained stubbornly shaky.

After that last hit from Sobek, the world seemed to have begun to tilt sideways, and his mouth felt like that time when he was five and decided the best way to learn about what _netjeri _knives were really made of was to stick one in his mouth.

Nothing but the bitter taste of ancient metal everywhere, and his tongue as numb and swollen as if he had just licked an electrical socket instead. He'd probably taken a solid decade off of Amos's life that day, and at this rate Sobek would outdo him.

Percy liked to think he could've done a better job with training or time, eyeing a nasty-looking cut running across the crocodile god's jaw, reluctantly bleeding golden ichor, with exhausted satisfaction. But as it was. . .

He picked up Carter's lost khopesh with trembling hands as he clambered to his feet, resigned.

One last hit. He could take one last hit for the rest of them to get away. Sobek snarled, and Percy bared his teeth right back at him. Nephthys was silent, but the distinctive feeling of feverishness creeping up on him, making him sway in the suffocating Texas heat, explained the strained silence between goddess and host.

Percy wasn't built for this.

"Go, kittens! Take Sadie and run!"

Percy blinked once. Twice, at the distinctive _ring _of Bast's knives leaving their sheaths.

He heard Sadie sob, and that made him whip his head around in time to see Bast prowling forward. Besides her, Khufu drew himself up and growled at Sobek—an ugly, feral thing that didn't match up with the almost comic baboon who had done nearly as much to raise Percy as Amos had.

Percy swung his head around in time to see one of the unnaturally large crocodiles lunging for him.

It probably would've ripped Percy's throat out if it weren't for a sudden flying baboon. Khufu screamed at the crocodile, scratching and punching as the two animals grappled in the water. Percy ran back to the bank, grateful for Nephthys somehow automatically keeping him dry.

Carter was anxiously checking an unconscious Sadie over as Percy nearly collapsed next to them; he took over checking Sadie's pulse, his gut twisting even more at how clammy she was to the touch. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Carter's face crumple and shoulders shake as bits of the falcon avatar briefly shimmered into existence around him before fading.

_"Go!" _Bast yelled again. "Tell your father I kept my promise, Carter!"

Bast's promise. To look after Ruby's children, after she had sacrificed her life to free Bast from eternally fighting Apophis.

"No!" the two of them yelled, but were too late as the two gods wrestled. Bast slashed Sobek in the face, right where Percy had gotten him earlier, and as he howled in pain, the water boiled and frothed around them. A blinding green explosion lit up the entire length of the river, forcing Percy to briefly close his eyes.

When he opened them again, it took his vision a second to clear to see what Carter was carrying.

He sniffed loudly as Percy stood up to see what it was: a soaked, half-dead black cat wearing a rapidly crumbling talisman of Bast was lying in Carter's arms. Besides him, Khufu limped out of the water to Percy's side.

"She's gone," Percy said hoarsely, feeling like it took most of his remaining energy to say. Khufu made a comforting noise, clinging tightly to Percy's legs. "That. . .she's gone. She took Sobek to the Duat with her, but she—that's just Muffin."

He let out a dry sob, and the two of them unashamedly let tears roll down their cheeks for a long moment.

It didn't last when Khufu let out a strangled shriek, just in time to make Percy see more wake-lines in the still-churning river. The green scales of the crocodiles gleamed in the unforgiving sunlight.

His mouth twisted, and Percy wanted to keep crying. _"Really? _More of them?"

Khufu lopped over to Sadie, clucking in Baboon as he looked over her still-bleeding head wound.

Percy and Carter shared a long look, the same thoughts running through their heads, judging from the dark look in Carter's eyes as he protectively cradled Muffin to his chest. They were never voiced, though.

Not when Percy turned around in time to see _Philip of Macedonia, _giving Percy what he could only characterize as a disapproving look for wandering off, right before the albino crocodile launched himself over their heads with his teeth bared, right at Sobek's crocodiles.

Carter let out a slightly hysterical laugh. "That's impossible. Brooklyn House was destroyed."

"Not impossible. It was just improbable."

Percy whipped around at the impossible familiar voice, and gave its owner a wide relieved grin. He'd probably have gone for a hug, too, if it weren't for a complete lack of trust in his traitorous knees. He didn't trust them not to mutiny by giving out if he moved too fast.

Uncle Amos was kneeling by Sadie, examining her head wound with what Percy knew was years of experience, as well as a frown that didn't reach the wrinkles around his eyes. Memories of the strange conversation from what felt like a year ago reared their ugly heads.

"But—Uncle Amos?" Carter said, both confused and relieved at once. "I thought that I had dreamed you—"

"Philip will keep Sobek's minions busy for a time, Carter," Uncle Amos said briskly as he stood up, wiping his knees. Percy stumbled to his feet, feeling rather awkward, but the magician didn't look in his direction. "Unless either of you want to be torn apart by crocodiles, we need to leave _now."_

Well. He had a point, Percy supposed.

* * *

It was in Las Cruces, New Mexico that they ran into Carter's crush that he was in the Nile about again.

Carter, for his part, didn't seem to find the pun funny, for some reason that Percy couldn't think of.

The only times in life he had seen Carter vomit up _that _many obscure details from Egyptian history was trying to impress Uncle Julius and around Sadie's friends in London. Zia, for her part, treated this as something to actually be _encouraged. _

"This is a good thing," Percy insisted, trying to ignore the sensation of his face burning from those peppers he'd eaten earlier as he took another gulp of milk. "It means she's either a giant history nerd like you, or she likes you—or both!"

"I simply appreciate the fact that she's an excellent magician and a great person. I think we can be friends, great friends. If she wants," Carter amended awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You tried to tell a person who's lived in Egypt her entire life the history of Luxor, and she humored you!" Sadie called back to them. She was good as new after Amos had healed her head wound. Carter ignored her. She chose to sidle over to Percy, offering him another tamale. "Here, no peppers of spicy death this time. Promise."

Percy took a bite, and hummed appreciatively before going back to poking holes in Carter's argument. "She's tried to _kill _us. Remember? Big ugly knife, 'we must be sure'?"

"No, I don't."

"I do," Percy said helpfully. "And so do you, liar. I know you were still conscious at the time, I saw."

"She thought we were _possessed, _Percy. She's been trained all her life to fight gods, of course she was ready to kill us."

"See, that sentence should let you know that this isn't friendly. You _like _her," Percy sang out. He'd admit that he was going a bit far with the bit, but he did want Carter to face the music.

If _Percy_ could pick up on it right off the bat, it was bad. And Carter had practically been glowing after every conversation with Zia, murder attempts or no.

Of course, the entire conversation was helped by the fact that Zia was currently trying to find the partner—Mel, Percy remembered her name was—whom she'd been sent out with to Las Cruces, after a very suspicious conversation about Amos with Sadie and Percy, and was currently nowhere in earshot.

"Percy, Horus knows some _excellent _places to hide bodies," Carter said grimly, oblivious to Percy's thoughts. "And I'm inclined to listen to him for once."

The effect was rather ruined by the milk mustache Percy hadn't told him about yet—a consequence of the peppers of spicy death Sadie had mentioned.

"Since when are you two getting—_shit. _They're here," Percy breathed. His left hand strayed to his wand, hanging from his belt.

On the other side of the stone plaza, Desjardins was storming towards them, the distinctive leopard's skin over his shoulder marking him as the new Chief Lector. He was flanked by an apologetic-looking Zia and not-at-all-apologetic partner Mel, and Carter looked stricken.

* * *

It helped, of course, when she didn't burn them alive on sight. And the Pillar of Fire she set on Desjardins to keep him from killing the three of them was the cherry on top, really.

It was after the longest fifteen minutes of Percy's life, when he had to be the one who came up with the plans because Desjardins had absolutely no chill and _summoned freaking Sekhmet in the first thirty nanoseconds of his reign as Chief Lector, what in the name of Ra's crook and flail was he thinking—_

Okay, Percy was off point. And his thoughts were starting to sound more like Amos then Amos did.

The _point, _he was pretty sure, was that he once again had his skin saved by a fascination with the Sekhmet and Hathor myths when he had been about nine, as well as weaponizing magic jalapeño salsa because Sadie had studied the Roman myths in school and Carter was too busy trying to keep Zia in one piece until she was conscious again.

Amos didn't look too pleased about this, and Percy suspected it was not because he was in the Carter-Is-Up-The-Nile Club.

But anyone willing to create an actual Pillar of Fire to defend them, breaking _years _of having being taught the House of Life's doctrine into pieces in the face of being proven wrong, was pretty awesome in Percy's book.

In the first test of this friendship, they all broke into Set's completely non-secret Lair of Evil Death together.

* * *

"I have a bad feeling about this," Zia Rashid said quietly, taking point as they made their way down the claustrophobia-inducing red tunnel.

Still without her magic from creating the Pillar of Fire to delay Desjardins back in New Mexico, she was looking a little dazed, but this was the most lucid she'd been since they'd defeated Sekhmet in Las Cruces yesterday.

"You're not the only one, Zia," Percy muttered under his breath, close behind her. She gave him a worried look over her shoulder that said just how much she had been hoping Percy would prove her wrong, and ice slid down Percy's spine.

He wasn't imagining it.

Red hieroglyphs were one thing, but the storm magic used to get them in? Percy _knew _that was chaos magic.

But the person he knew—the person who had _raised _Percy, for crying out loud, to believe in Ma'at, in order on a universal scale—as Amos Kane would never suggest it, _ever. _Percy had overheard Zia's conversation with Sadie, her insistence that he was possessed. He didn't want to believe her, wanted to dismiss it as just leftover paranoia from someone ready to kill them barely a week ago.

Desjardins was standing _right there, _a prime suspect full of ambition and anger. He could be easily tricked into it, Percy believed; Amos would never, given the choice.

_Unless he wasn't given one, _Nephthys whispered suddenly. Percy nearly jumped as her voice echoed through his head.

The closer they'd gotten the pyramid, the more silent she had become, unlike Horus and Isis, who Carter and Sadie were constantly having one-sided arguments with, culminating in Carter rather spectacularly shrieking "Happy Birthday! Happy?!" the other day, while Sadie's cursing vocabulary had become increasingly creative. But they were still _helping _Percy's cousins, lending them their strength in battle.

Meanwhile, Nephthys hadn't even told Percy Set's Secret Name, promising only to tell him so he could tell Sadie when "the time was right". Whenever that was.

_Definitely not around Amos Kane._

That weird conversation right after the British Museum kept replaying through Percy's head, all the things that wouldn't add up to make something that made _sense_ sticking like burrs to his mind.

He'd nearly told Amos that they knew where Nephthys right after Las Cruces, but Zia had nearly strangled him to stop him, and Percy was starting to appreciate her efforts more and more.

"He'll be fine, right?" Sadie asked as they crawled through the narrow dark tunnel of the gargantuan pyramid, the roaring of Set's amassed armies barely dulled by how much stone must have been separating them by now. Carter and Percy nodded nervously, neither of them quite believing themselves. "I mean, he's a stupidly powerful magician, and we just blew up their boats. They won't care about one magician, right? Not when there's us."

Percy didn't answer, instead fighting the rising feeling of claustrophobia as they climbed downwards. The carvings on the wall didn't help either—Carter kept stopping to glare at them, explaining that they weren't normal tomb pictures, but instead carvings meant to invoke the power of Isfet. _Chaos._

The power of the carvings had left Sadie, Carter, and Zia increasingly nauseous as they went, while Nephthys had felt ready to claw her way out of Percy's head, a sensation that manifested an insistent pressure against his temples that drove him mad. But it was the worst for Carter, who'd spent years with Uncle Julius. To an Egyptian archaeologist, they were downright offensive.

Pictures of Paris, Beijing, and London burning, of Set and the Set animal tearing into modern armies—all of them in full color and so gruesome Percy wasn't sure if the queasiness came from revulsion at the pictures or the chaos magic created by them.

He felt he had aged decades when they reached the heart of the pyramid.

The four of them tentatively stepped inside one by one, braced for anything as they took in the throne room built where a burial chamber would normally be. The room was the size of a tennis court, the floor dropping off all around into a trench filled with something glowing red.

Percy didn't want to know what it was.

The trench looked easy enough to jump, but none of them were eager to do it, considering the chaos hieroglyphs inscribed all over the floor, illuminated by crimson light streaming in from a hole in the ceiling.

"Well, gentlemen first," Sadie said, her voice shaky. Her eyes were locked on the throne; it was a horrible misshapen mass of red sandstone, formed around a golden coffin serving as a footrest for whoever sat in it.

Uncle Julius's coffin.

Percy swallowed roughly, and nodded. It was why they were there, after all. "Let's do this."

One by one, they each jumped the trench. Percy almost lost his balance when he landed, the room seeming to tilt around him before he shook himself and tried to get used to the feeling. Zia, Carter, and Sadie were worse off, all looking like they were going to be sick.

"How do we get him out, do you think?" Carter said. He was gripping his sword so tight the blade was trembling as he stared at the coffin.

Percy looked up, trying to think, and then froze when he saw a pair of legs dangling from the glowing red vent. "Uncle?"

Amos dropped down, using his coat like a parachute to slow his landing. He lifted his staff, speaking a single word to close off the shaft before giving them all a smile. Ash dusted his hair. "That should hold them for a while. Hello, children."

Zia inspected him, her grip tightening on her staff; the lion's head seemed to shimmer with flame for a brief second. "You should not be alive."

Amos chuckled. "I've heard that one many times, my dear. But for now, we should get down to business."

"Yes," Carter agreed eagerly. "How do we get the coffin out? Cut it? Do we need some sort of spell?"

"No, children. That's not the business I mean."

Percy went cold.

"It's time we _talked," _he said cruelly, in a voice so unlike him Percy felt like he had been stabbed in the heart.

Before they could do anything, Amos suddenly fell to his knees, convulsing. Percy ran towards him, heedless of Zia's warning. Amos looked up at him, his face wracked with pain.

His eyes were molten red.

"No," Percy breathed. "No, no no."

"Run!" Amos groaned. "You have to—"

He cut off with another groan of pain, and collapsed in a heap onto the ground. Red steam rose from his body, moving towards the throne. Percy was frozen, his eyes fixed on Amos's unconscious form. The tilting sensation was overwhelming now, as it felt like the world was falling away beneath him.

_Who knows what side the wife will fall on._

_Arizona, my apologies. _

_Storm magic, of course._

The falling sensation didn't stop, and Percy had never felt smaller. He'd ignored all of those details, waiting until the non-existent _later._

He should've known. He should've _seen._

"Percy, we have to go!" Zia grabbed his arm, jolting him out of his reverie as she tugged. "Now!"

The steam took the shape of a man seated on the throne and slowly, _painstakingly _solidified into a red warrior with armor of fire, an iron staff, and the head of a familiar monster.

He remembered perfectly how Carter had locked Leroy the Set Animal in the Duat.

"Oh, dear," Set said mockingly. "I suppose someone gets to say 'I told you so', then. Sadie, perhaps? The delightful Zia Rashid?"

The genuine enthusiasm for their answer, like he was asking for their favorite flavor of ice cream, made Percy inhale sharply, and if it weren't for Zia already restraining him, he probably would've done something very, very stupid.

The god rose from his throne. Set leisurely strolled towards them as with each step, his head seemed to flicker back and forth between the slavering jaws and hungry stare of Carter's friend Leroy the Set Animal from D.C., and a handsome but cruel human face that didn't seem quite right.

Set kicked Amos out of the way, and he groaned. Percy flinched, but something in him also relaxed.

Amos was alive, at least. They all were; everything could still be fixed. The four of them could fix this.

"Zia was right," Carter breathed. "You _did _possess him."

Set stopped and took the chance to dramatically spread his arms with an expression of faux modesty on his face. "Well, I wasn't fully possessing him, if we're being completely honest; gods can be in many places, and I've been a _very _busy boy."

He paused, studying their faces in turn before he turned to Carter, rolling each word around in his mouth before it came out, dripping with condescension.

"Just look at you, Carter. I'm sure Horus has been looking for a nice war monument or lovely military academy to rattle around in instead of your pathetic form. Most of _my _being, meanwhile, is now living within this structure my armies have built. And what a _structure. _I have not felt like this a long, long time."

"But Amos?" Sadie asked angrily. Percy stayed silent, some instinct of Nephthys's going off so loudly he could barely open his mouth short of prying it open with his fingers. "What about him?"

"A sliver of my soul was quite enough, I assure you. Like so, Sadie Kane. Watch," Set ordered cheerfully as he held out a single pinkie. A wisp of red smoke drifted lazily from him to Amos, whose back arched like he'd been struck by lightning.

"Stop it!" Sadie demanded, horrified.

But the mist had already dissipated, and his body went slack. Set clucked in sympathy. "Not much left in him, I'm afraid. He was very entertaining in the beginning, you know. He fought well, demanding more of me that I thought he could have. That chaos magic, turning you into storm clouds? That was him, trying to warn you, even as I made him burn his own reserves. Almost killed him."

"You're a beast," Sadie growled. If Percy wasn't busy having the world's quietest mental wrestling match with Nephthys so that he could _talk _again, he would've had a few choice words for her to use instead.

Set gasped. "Really? _Moi?"_

Percy finally was able to negotiate enough of a ceasefire with Nephthys to move and drag Amos out of harm's way with Zia's help as Set laughed, most of his attention still on a fuming Sadie and Carter as he sneered, "Really, did you think it was that commoner Desjardins? After all, we do prefer blood of the pharaohs. But I did think the French in your dreams was a lovely touch, Carter. It was all so _easy, _from the moment your fool of a father released us."

"Then why didn't you just make him kidnap us, if you possessed him that night at the British Museum? Why run off like that?" Carter demanded.

Set spread his hands before them. "Your uncle put up a delightful fight, like I said. There were some things that I could not force him to do without breaking him utterly. . .particularly considering the host of a lovely, _treacherous, _goddess."

Percy, who'd retreated to one side of the room, winced. Set chuckled, and Percy's skin crawled as the god's gaze fell on him, Set's eyes dragging themselves up across Percy as he studied him.

"Uh, hello," Percy said awkwardly. "Please, don't bother with me. I'm nothing worthy thinking about. I mean, _they're _right there."

He gestured to Sadie and Carter, both whom looked ready to snap with tension at any second.

"Oh, but how could I ignore you, my dear?" Set purred. "Of course, you are. . .small. But you deserve your due. After all, the first time, you were my treacherous sister. Then, you were my treacherous wife. Now? I think you'll make a wonderful first blood in my eternal reign."

Carter tried to blast him with a golden beam of energy from his staff, which barely fazed Set despite it vaporizing a large amount of his throne.

Nephthys was still silent, and Percy's stomach roiled as he slowly pulled out his wand, mind blank as he tried to come up with something, _anything _that would keep him from being smashed into dust.

"Oh, we're going to fight, are we?" Set said mockingly as he stared at Percy with bald delight. "You were never any of our equals, my dear, and that host of yours. . .my. Oh. My. Where do I _begin?"_

"You won't," Zia growled, drawing herself up besides Percy. The top of her staff burst into flame. "The House of Life!"

She launched a bolt of fire right at Set, which must have cost her most of her remaining energy. Set deflected it right back at Percy with a lazy swipe. He managed to conjure a shaky shield of water at the last moment, Nephthys's power suddenly surging through his fingertips and leaving him queasy. It fizzled into mist, and Percy tried to launch a spell of his own back at Set, but before he could come up with even a Divine Word, Set tugged at the air, and Percy went flying straight at him, a vise grip around Percy's throat choking him.

Spots began to dance in front of his eyes, and Percy could've sworn he saw flames as he choked and felt Set's bruising grip around his throat tighten. The iron grip heated up, and Percy fought to loosen the grip, tugging at Set's burning hands even as he was lifted off the ground.

The flames rose, and his brain turned foggy. _Please, _he foolishly prayed to anyone bothering to listen, _get them out. At least get my family out._

But he didn't burn, even as his lungs were starved for air.

Which seemed, actually, to be a surprise to all involved.

"What? How are you doing that?" Set said incredulously, before roaring right in Percy's face, "Why do you not _burn?_ What trickery is this!"

Even with the life being choked out of him, Percy managed to roll his eyes.

"Look. . .like I. . .know?" he choked out.

Set scowled, and threw him aside like a rag doll. Right before he could fell into the moat, though, Percy heard Sadie yell, "Wind!"

A sudden gust howled through the room, and like a roller coaster, he was jerked around to eventually tumble at Sadie and Carter's feet. Percy's chest heaved as he gratefully gripped at the ground, and he hacked and coughed as Zia helped him up. Dimly, he registered her casting some sort of weak healing spell, and he felt the bruises on his throat fade and irritation disappear.

"Is this you, Isis? Are you protecting her?" Set demanded. He blasted a small sandstorm at them which Sadie deflected into the walls, creating a scar in the rock. Carter rose, looking as angry as Percy had ever seen him, his hawk-headed combat avatar forming.

_Good to see you, chicken man, _he thought slightly hysterically. Carter—and Horus now, Percy realized—stood confidently, and raised their _khopesh _as one.

Set regarded Carter coldly. "Finally find the training wheels on your little bike, Horus?"

"I am Carter Kane, blood of the pharaohs, and the Eye of Horus," Carter and Horus declared, what was once only Carter's voice now a dual-toned chorus imbued with the same power as Set's. "And now, Set, I am going to crush you like the gnat you are beneath my feet."

Sadie pulled Amos back behind Percy, and Zia drew a hasty protective circle around them. Meanwhile, Percy pleaded with Nephthys for something. _Anything. _

_Lady, I know I'm not blood of the pharaohs, a proper magician, whatever. I know you have limits. But I need your help if we're going to defeat him. _

She hadn't even told Percy Set's Secret Name, for crying out loud—which was _vital _to banishing him back to the Duat. Percy didn't know what it was that made them keep re-enacting the same song and dance, but it was going to get them killed at this rate.

Set grew in size, giant iron staff in hand, and Carter swung at him, knocking him across the room and back onto his throne. Set laughed, before bouncing back onto his feet and punching Carter—or just the avatar; Percy wasn't really clear on the mechanics of it—in the face. His staff shifted into a sword, and the two of them began to fight in earnest, destroying the room around them.

Carter destroyed one of the statues of the Set animal decorating the room, and the rubble hit the fragile protective shield, making Sadie, Zia, and Percy shudder as what power they had left between them barely kept it standing.

The throne room wouldn't take much more of this, Percy realized; soon, it would collapse, entombing them all here. Carter looked back at them, clearly having the same thought, and blasted a hole in the ceiling before jumping through, taking Set with him.

Without talking, the three conscious magicians left knew what to do. Zia collapsed the shield while Sadie levitated Amos out of the room onto a stable ledge in the outside, where she rebuilt and re-enforced the protective shield. Percy could already hear the bloodthirsty howls of the demons that awaited them.

Percy took a deep breath, tried not to giggle hysterically, and turned his mind to the armies of demons waiting outside to tear them all apart. Tried to come up with a plan that wasn't immediately suicidal.

Nephthys spoke.

_I will only say this once, Perseus Kane. Whoever wins, we will not speak again. Now listen carefully. When my brother was born, it was an Evil Day. If he rises, it will be an Evil Day again._

He inhaled sharply, and nodded, ignoring the uselessness of the gesture. If he needed to nod, he would _nod, _dammit.

Percy stumbled to his feet, and extended his staff as he prepared to run after Sadie into battle.

Nephthys said nothing more, but Percy suddenly felt a surge move through him like a bolt of lightning. Spells he had never even heard of five minutes ago flashed through his head, and the aches of thirty seconds ago disappeared.

Divine power. This was properly, complete divine power being poured into his head.

And, he thought with a wince as a burning sensation began to slide up his spine, it would kill him if they weren't quick about saving the world.

Before he could become properly scared, Percy climbed out of the throne room and gaped at the scene around him.

The sky was cloudy, crackling with thunder, and scarlet red, the light bouncing off of the pyramid and making the Arizona desert look like it was glowing. The chanting of the armies around him, the yelling from Set and Carter up the pyramid, and the general booming roar was almost enough to make him want to clap his hands over his ears and yell for everyone to _shut up. _

Regiments of barely controlled demons flew across the sky while others crawled up towards the magicians and Percy, in patterns one part of his mind went into overdrive over trying to memorize.

It all should have been overwhelming to the point of driving him into catatonia. The minutia he had to analyze as Zia determinedly waded into one group, her staff sparking as she leveled all her focus on them while Sadie and Carter ignored everything but Set just to stay sane. Percy could take it all in.

A demon with a corkscrew head came flying at Percy, and before he could think, his right hand flew up and turned it into stone with his staff. The reflexes ADHD had given him a long time ago kicked in as his hearing zeroed in on a buzzing noise at three o'clock, and Percy rolled to the ground before popping back up to take the head off another demon with ease.

Five more ran towards him, and his instincts along with Nephthys took over. Before he could really think, he conjured what looked like a small hurricane that tore them apart with ease as Percy threw his wand into the mess, killing them all.

Before Percy could breath, he spun on a dime in time to turn a flying monster into a fruit bat, the attack patterns from earlier helping him predict their attacks.

In half a second, Percy surveyed his progress, nodding to himself even as he kept one eye on Zia, who was beginning to attract a large amount of attention, and the other half of the second was spent checking on his cousins, who were beginning to gain the upper hand on Set. Percy could see the Feather of Truth shining in Sadie's hand.

It was like he had been born for battle.

"Alright," he said to himself, breathless. "Alright. I can do this."

Then a giant dragonfly mutant flew right at him with his buddies, and Percy lunged, any real thoughts turning into a loop of _hack, don't die, spell, don't die, run, don't die, where's Sadie?_

* * *

No sooner had Percy whispered Set's true name into Sadie's ear approximately twenty minutes later than did he tumble down the side of the pyramid, punching and kicking at whatever just tried to take his head off. Sadie loudly began to chant, creating the largest sand vortex Percy had ever seen in his life, transporting them to Washington, D.C.

Washington, and the biggest source of Ma'at in North America: The Washington Monument.

Percy hit the demon again with his wand as they fell off the crumbling pyramid onto the grass, and with the help of some sort of switching spell apparently normally reserved for goats, the demon stopped trying to eat Percy's face as it instead was transported five feet away into a heap.

Percy got to his feet, inspected the blood and muck all over his shorts, heard the screaming as the House of Life's belated reinforcements continued to fall against the waves of demons, and started to feel that battles were overrated.

"Hey, ugly!" he yelled, barely ducking a stray javelin out of nowhere. _"Ha-wi!"_

The resulting explosion didn't kill the demon, judging from the angry roar of "I am the Face of Horror! You will not defeat me so easily, mortal!" from its general location. Percy snickered at the name, and charged into the horde centered around Zia that his spell had sent Face of Horror into.

He threw his wand like a boomerang at a serpopard, and conjured a tidal wave at a nearby fire demon as he fought his way to Zia's side.

The burning sensation continued to creep up his spine, accompanied by continual twisting of his gut, so Percy focused on Zia yelling at him instead.

"Percy, don't give Set's lieutenant a heads-up before you kill him," she yelled exasperatedly as sparks danced along her hands and what looked like a stolen dagger. With most of her power depleted, she was sticking to small, subtle spells to help with her hand-to-hand combat skills—to great success, judging from all the dead demons around her.

She stabbed a demon right through its chainmail armor, and as its comrades circled around her, she and Percy wound up back-to-back.

"Yeah, but Face of Horror? What kind of name is Face of—" Percy broke off, slamming his staff to the ground suddenly as Face of Horror brought reinforcements, fresh from overwhelming a House of Life magician. The wave of power knocked them back, buying Percy time to mutter a spell with his left hand stretched out.

A dozen demons were drowned in the dry air. If Percy'd had time to think, he would've probably been a bit queasy at how easily he continued to wield that divine power, which was beginning to make him feel like he was on the verge of being blackout drunk.

The resulting death of Face of Horror, as Percy quickly shifted his staff into a sword and back to kill him, sent everyone in the vicinity flying with an explosion of chaos magic, with only Set, Carter, and Sadie left standing.

Percy and Zia stumbled back to their feet, and Percy could only feel even more terrified, if that was still possible, at what was left behind.

The shadow of a serpent, over a hundred feet long and black as night, was left scorched across the red pyramid.

The now-familiar cold, slimy feel of chaos magic faded away, leaving Percy and Zia staring at each other as the battle briefly moved away from them.

"Please tell me that wasn't. . ." Percy trailed off.

"Apophis," Zia breathed, shaking her head. "Not possible. It has to be a lie."

They looked at each other, and then up at Carter and Sadie, who had Set bound before them. The ritual was almost complete, and soon Set would be banished back into the Duat.

Percy locked eyes with Sadie, pleading with her to understand. Even from the ground, he could see a calculating look cross her face that was both incredibly like and unlike her at the same time. She turned and said something to Carter Percy couldn't hear.

Carter screamed, "No!"

Sadie quickly threw the Feather of Truth up into the air, and it exploded into silver dust.

What Percy saw in the sky—the chaos magic forming the serpent in chains large enough to dwarf the Potomac, its hissed promises of the end of everything—would haunt his nightmares for years.

* * *

With Set bound and gone, Percy just wanted to sleep.

Any sense of victory had evaporated the instant Percy got a look at the crumpled heap that was Amos at Sadie's feet. His eyes stung furiously, and his grip on his staff increased to the point of being painful to try and keep him upright.

Sadie had knocked out Amos after Set had left his body. It had been a mercy, really; he was burning up, and clearly shattered by what happened. He had struggled to string together coherent sentences. Sleep was his best chance at peace until he could see a healer. Percy _knew _that. He'd read all about possession in his quest to get around the "No Horror Films Because Khufu Will Murder The Furniture" rule as a kid.

He also knew that Set had violated Amos's privacy in about a dozen different ways, and come damn close to breaking him.

Percy leaned against Carter, barely listening as Sadie gave a grand speech about Apophis being the real enemy here, and bargaining for Set's temporary loyalty. Percy sniffed, and tried to make himself think clinically about it.

Uncle Julius was gone, probably. He'd taken on Osiris's spirit, and so was either dead or god of the Underworld, consigned to immortality in the Duat.

Bast would not return from the Duat for _decades, _and Percy made a silent apology to Philip for his new seething hatred of most crocodiles.

Amos would have to find help. . ._somewhere. _Percy didn't know if the First Nome would accept him after all this.

But he would find the healers needed for Amos all by himself if he had to, thirteen years old or not.

He'd been taught and trained for a reason, he reminded himself. Amos had trusted him to be able to one day step up. That day had finally come. It had only happened to not only knock Percy off his feet, but almost take out some more vital parts.

_("One day, you'll grow up. You won't need me anymore—")_

Percy clutched his head as the same flames Set had tried to burn him with earlier seemed to encroach on his vision, making his head pound in time with his heart.

He _really _needed to get Nephthys out of his head sooner rather than later.

Percy weighed the feel of the stolen staff and wand in his hands—_his _staff and wand, really. Percy had done enough magic the past couple days that even without Nephthys he had probably earned 'bad magician' status instead of 'useless temporary godling'.

He hoped, anyway. Getting hit with your own wand got old pretty quickly.

Carter gave him a nudge. "You okay, Perce?"

He straightened up a little, and gave Carter a shrug, not bothering to try and lie.

"Not really. I'd commit murder for a nap," Percy said quietly.

Carter nodded, grimacing. "Same. But hey, soon as we get back to Brooklyn—"

He broke off as he looked up over Percy's shoulder, and scowled. Confused, Percy turned around and choked when he saw what had made Carter go silent. "I was _joking_ about the killing."

"Great," Sadie muttered behind Percy. "He's not dead."

Uncaring of any fairness in the world whatsoever, Michel Desjardins stalked toward the quartet, his beard still smoking from the battle.

Percy elbowed Carter, and the two snickered. Sadie rolled her eyes, the magical multi-colored wings on her back twitching as she shifted her feet, combat boots steaming lightly.

And after the past few days compounded with his life in general, Percy was not even surprised at that statement.

"YOU!" Desjardins roared. "All, all _four _of you!"

Zia flinched. Carter tentatively took her hand, and she shifted closer to him before stonily looking Desjardins in the eye. Sadie sighed, and Percy gave Desjardins his best _Who, me? _look.

"Yes?" Percy asked innocently. Somehow, Desjardins had a way of making the pain take a backseat to other things.

"Did you want anything right after we saved the world?" Sadie chimed in, giving Desjardins a dangerous smirk.

"You let Set _go?_ After everything he has done against Ma'at, you just let him—"

He was cut off by Carter drawing his sword. "Desjardins, we don't answer to you. Not before, and certainly not now."

Before Carter could step forward and make good on his implied threat, Zia caught him by the elbow, and Sadie stepped forward. She didn't look any less mad than Carter, but that calm calculation from when she had revealed Apophis lingered in her eyes.

"Desjardins, just in case you didn't see everything, Apophis is rising," she reminded him, "He will return, and we will need the gods. The House of Life needs the gods. The old ways _must_ return before it's too late."

"The old ways brought Egypt burning to the ground," Desjardins snarled. "And I swear to you, I will be long dead before you are allowed to force that—that _blasphemy _on us all."

Blue hieroglyphs blazed in the air around him as he literally glowed with power, and Percy wasn't afraid.

A week ago, he most likely would have been scared at the look in the Chief Lector's eyes, both for himself, and for Carter and Sadie. Desjardins was one word away from turning them all into cockroaches without breaking a sweat. But right then, after everything that had happened the past couple days, Percy only felt resolve.

In that moment, as insane as it was, _he_ was more powerful than Desjardins. Carter and Sadie, exponentially more so. Even Zia, drained as she was from fighting without divine backup, was one of the most powerful fire elementalists Percy had ever seen.

And they weren't afraid to let him know it.

The fact that Percy had blown up his plumbing and Desjardins almost definitely knew it was him by now helped, too.

"Blasphemy? You aren't the Pope, dude, and the House isn't your armed wacko church. We don't worship gods," Percy said exasperatedly, looking a furious Desjardins in the eye, "You know that. Learning to use the gods' power is part of magic."

Desjardins sneered. "Do you really think anyone here would believe you, boy? Amos was a sentimental fool, and never should have been allowed to keep you. The gods will drive you mad, without even the blood of kings as a flimsy shield. You're nothing but a liability."

Percy flinched like he had been struck. Beside him, Carter gave a growl that wasn't completely human. The top of his staff glowed, and even Desjardins seemed to sense he had crossed a line. _"Never _speak of our family that way. Ever."

"Our cousin, our _liability," _Sadie spit out, just as furious, "Helped to stop Set, and exposed Apophis today. You owe him your life, Chief Lector."

Homicidal fury on his behalf should _not _have made Percy feel better.

"Then is that your first command, Horus and Isis?" Desjardins demanded. "That I thank the Kanes on my hands and knees? This is how it begins, you know, when the gods possess you. I imagine you'll demand the throne next, Horus, drunk on your power, and soon, you'll forget your own humanity—"

Sadie interrupted him with a melodramatic groan. "Save it, Desjardins. The gods will kill us, blasphemy, yadda yadda. Message ignored."

Desjardins looked apoplectic, but they ignored him as he spluttered. Sadie turned to face Carter and Percy, her bearing more mature and grave than Percy had ever seen it. "You guys know what to do?"

Carter and Percy shared a quick glance, and without a single world or dramatic facial expression, read each other perfectly. At first Percy was surprised, and suspected the influence of the gods. But he realized quickly that he wasn't reading Horus's body language or any weird telepathic connection: he was reading _Carter. _Carter's quirks and tells.

At the end of the day, adoption or no, whatever surname Percy used, the three of them were Kanes.

They'd always meant it; the three of them were family. And, gods help them all, they were friends.

"Are you positive, Sadie?" Carter said suspiciously. "We'll leave ourselves vulnerable."

Percy eyed Desjardins. "Could always get one more smack in. You know, for good luck."

"I'm sure," Sadie said. But she snorted nonetheless at Percy's crack as sirens began to echo off in the distance.

Percy focused as he lifted the amulet from around his neck, and felt the spirit of Nephthys leave him, flowing away. Most of her went back into the Duat. Some of her shifted into the Potomac River, and the rest into the Washington Monument.

Percy expected a sense of loss to accompany it.

He expected it to be hard to give away.

Carter and Sadie certainly looked grief-stricken as they held out their amulets.

Instead, he felt. . .free.

If he didn't know better, stronger. Like he'd been carrying weights for days, and finally let them go, only to find his sense of 'normal' had been readjusted when he wasn't looking.

He contemplated the sensation for a moment, reveling in his head not feeling like it had been beat in fifteen times over, and then filed it away with the other weird things about him that had never added up. At least he was reasonably sure he wasn't possessed by Set.

Meanwhile, much to his joy, Desjardins was so shocked by their decision, he had forgotten how to speak English.

_"C-C'est in—inconcevable,"_ he stuttered out,_ "Les dieux n'abandonnent pas leur_—"

"Yes, we could," Sadie said, her tone brooking no more argument as Percy smirked; he didn't know French, but he got the gist of it. "We gave the gods up of our own free will, and if you don't believe that, the word inconceivable does not mean what you think it means."

A burst of laughter erupted out of Percy, but Desjardins paid no mind to it as he continued to stare at them. Before he could try to accuse them of anything else, Carter threw down his sword, looking done with the whole thing.

"Desjardins, no matter what else you think of Sadie, Percy, and me, I do not want the throne," he said loudly, making sure the survivors of the battle could hear him, "Not unless I've earned that honor, and that's not happening for a long time. We will teach others the path of the gods, and you can either help, or waste everyone's time by trying to destroy us."

The sound of sirens was much closer now, and Percy could see emergency vehicles beginning to cordon off the National Mall, with police running around and yelling orders. They didn't have long before everyone was completely surrounded.

Desjardins looked around him, clearly gauging how much support he could get from his fellow magicians if he chose to fight the three of them—which wasn't much. Most of the magicians had looks of awe on their faces.

On Percy's part, he felt like Desjardins could take him out with a mean shove, and his cousins looked no better. They were just tired magicians now.

Finding his support lacking, Desjardins looked to Zia. "Zia? There is still a place for you in the First Nome. Iskandar had the greatest trust in you, and I've known you since you were a child. Leave them, and return with us. Come home."

Carter took a sharp breath, but said nothing as Zia closed her eyes briefly, grief at the choice before her crossing her face: the family that had raised her, or a family who could be the death of them all.

Her hands clenched into fists, and finally, she looked at Desjardins sadly as she shook her head. "I've learned a great many things over the past few days, Chief Lector. The divine path is a difficult and fraught one, but it is not inherently malicious."

"Zia!" Desjardins exclaimed. "Surely, you see that—"

"On this count, the House of Life is wrong," Zia said fiercely, "If Apophis is rising, then we alone are nowhere enough. I stand with the Kanes."

Percy had never seen Carter look so relieved, and Sadie gave a small grin of victory. Desjardins's nostrils flared, but he lowered his staff. "Then you must live with that decision, Zia Rashid. As I will live with mine. There has been enough bloodshed today. The path of the gods will remain closed, but if any of you cross us again, it will be the last time."

With that threat, he slammed his staff down, and he disappeared in a gust of wind, along with the other magicians.

For a moment, the sirens screamed away around them, and Percy suddenly felt exhausted. The sheer magnitude of what had just happened began to sink in. His hands began to tremble just a little, and the beginnings of a scream formed in his throat.

They had survived, but they were no longer gods; they were kids, and Percy wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball in his bed and not come out for a year.

He wasn't the Eye of Nephthys. He never had been, frankly.

He was Percy Jackson, and he wanted to go _home._

But Amos groaned by Carter's feet as he began to wake up, and Percy was reminded again: he still had so much to do. Zia was beginning to look dazed as her decision sank in, and Carter was looking a bit out of it. He shared a look with Sadie, who while tired, seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

They'd have to be strong for everyone else until they could get back up.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand," Percy said tiredly, "Quickest way back to Brooklyn, anyone?"

He wanted to _sleep._

* * *

**A/N: **I finally finished fitting this chapter together! Wahoo. Hope you guys liked it; Percy being a temporarily competent magician was fun to write.

As you can probably tell, this one's very much me cobbling together the last of the relevant/changed plot details from _The Red Pyramid. _There's one more (Even _longer)_ chapter after this tying off some loose threads, then an epilogue jumping forward to post-_The Serpent's Shadow _that leads into _Crocodile Wrestling. _Sorta. There's a Greek prequel up next in the docket for this 'verse after I finish TQoET explaining just how much the gods are fucked without Percy, and _then _we get to the fun part.

But in all seriousness: I know these are scary times. I'm lucky enough to somewhere safe with my family, and still in a position to try and write fic. I hope you all are safe, and please know that in my own weird way, I'll be here for you. It'll take more than a pandemic to stop my lunacy. This 'verse isn't going anywhere.

Like I've said elsewhere, treat yourself and each other kindly, darlings.


	4. The Hall of Judgement

**Disclaimer:** I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson, or the Kane Chronicles.

**Warnings:** Swearing, self-edited, frank discussions of PTSD symptoms, depression, and the aftermath of possession.

* * *

_"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."_

_-Maya Angelou_

* * *

One train ride that was longer than it had any right to be later, they were standing in the ruins of Brooklyn House.

Thankfully, mortals that weren't Percy seemed to have been unable to capture video, or real evidence, or generally process what had actually happened in D.C. There was only a rather boring video of a big square of melted snow on the National Mall, and some scary lights that experts put down to a southern appearance of the Aurora Borealis.

That was the one positive of the whole aftermath, Percy figured. At least they probably wouldn't be arrested. Again.

All the negatives—also known as _every other aspect _of their situation—crashed down on them when they got back to the mansion.

Khufu had managed to create a temporary space for them and Muffin, complete with a makeshift basketball court that had left Percy giving Khufu a crushing hug of his own for the thought behind it. But that was about all that was left of Brooklyn House. Percy's home looked like a giant had set fire to it, then put out the flames by stepping on it.

It took five weeks of nonstop work on all of their parts to get the structure of the house back.

Without godly magic at their beck and call, it was much harder to cast spells, requiring hours of concentration. Even Carter and Sadie were left crashing at sundown like clockwork. Zia couldn't do anything major for a couple days as her magic returned, but once it did, she managed to keep pace with the siblings.

For Percy, who they outstripped without trying, the workload left him feeling like he'd been crushed by an avalanche at the end of every day.

Magic just didn't come naturally to him. He worked for every scrap of power and control, with spells still periodically backfiring in ways that defied all logic. Sadie and Carter had been the ones meant for it, could do the great magical deeds. Personally, Percy always figured that as long as he didn't die and had a vague idea of what he was doing, it was a win.

It never turned into actual _jealousy, _of course. Access to divine power had a hefty price to pay, and he'd seen in exquisite detail what being Carter or Sadie came with, and the sacrifice Zia had made because she decided to believe in them.

The responsibility, the grief, the constant fighting of temptation to just take the way out that would not only be easy as hell, but was actually _begging _to be taken. It would fix everything, but at the cost of their lives, eventually.

They had lost their parents, had seen their uncle kidnapped and possessed, and were now numbers one and two on the Magician Interpol list.

Thoth's beak, even Zia had lost her entire family when she had been a toddler.

Percy knew they'd trade all their power back for their family in half a second and never look back.

None of this stopped the resentment from bubbling up some nights, as he lay in bed and waited for sleep to take over.

When Percy woke up from dreams he couldn't remember screaming for his mom, and had to face every day that the closest thing to a parent refused to look him in the eyes these days, the bitterness bubbled up in the back of his throat without his permission.

He was facing a lot of their consequences, without the so-called reward: next to no friends, all the death threats from the House of Life, next to no training, and dead parents—for Percy was thirteen, he wasn't stupid; either his father was dead or he didn't care, and Percy knew by now which one was better for his sanity. He had too many other people to look out for.

And the entire time, he was still both mortal and a terrible magician.

It had been one of his secret fantasies when he was a child, that Hatsheput or Thutmose or Ramses would be an ancestor of his, and he could fight gods with the rest of them.

But Percy remained stubbornly _normal._

* * *

He spent most of his days learning how to use what ability he had as efficiently as possible. Mostly, this involved moving stone debris.

So, so much stone. During the second week, when he'd had to resort to moving it by hand with Khufu's help to have a prayer of seeing his room in one piece again, Percy decided that the second little pig out of fairy tales was onto something with the wooden house.

On the last day, he spent an hour carefully painting incantations on the walls to help him out, only to have a baboon's sports allegiances get in the way.

"Khufu!" Percy yelled. "Don't, don't—ah, _shit."_

The remains of his Knicks basketball posters, carefully pieced together to aid in putting them back together, had been messed up by Khufu deciding to do some drills with the basketball that Percy had fixed for him _that morning._

In related news, Percy regretted a couple of his life choices.

"I don't care if you're a Lakers fan," he groused as he rushed over to fix them, trying to barely touch them to keep them clean. After a couple hours of work, he was positively filthy with dust and grime. "Those are _my _posters. That's _my _team."

Khufu made a rude noise at him, followed by some sounds that meant something to the effect of, _If you care about them so much, get one of the others to fix them. _

Only with a lot more baboon swears thrown in for good measure.

"I can do it myself," Percy grumbled. "Besides, Zia hasn't recovered from everything yet, Carter and Sadie have the library to worry about, and Amos. . .isn't available."

Khufu gave him an unimpressed stare and left. Percy made a _very _mature face at the door—well, convenient gap in the crumbling wall, more like—that he had gone through.

A couple minutes later, with everything ready, Percy stood in the center of the room with his wand in one hand, and a potion in the other. The latter was what amounted to magic steroids in a small bottle, with an ominous green color and bits of parchment floating in it.

The swamp flavor with a side of Might Make You Burst Into Flames was Percy's favorite magical booster potion, after all.

"To sleeping in a real bed," he said, raising the bottle; he figured a toast couldn't hurt him. Percy pinched his nose and gagged it down before he could have second, more rational thoughts.

It was _disgusting. _

Once he was done gagging from the taste, Percy took his wand in hand, and carefully chanted the thirty-three syllable spell that would supposedly fix his room in one go.

Unfortunately, no one else told him that it would knock a magician out for two and a half hours.

* * *

When dinner rolled around and Percy had come to, he could barely lift his arms above his shoulders, his hands were scraped up from moving the stone debris, and even _thinking _about magic made him nauseous—but he had managed to get his damn room back on his own.

Right down to the dreaded Knicks posters.

"Why did you trust Khufu?" Carter asked that evening, in between his continual attempts to inhale the entire lasagna Percy had scraped together. "You've told me before how he's trashed those posters."

"Don't diss Khufu," Sadie defended sleepily from the living area, already in her pajamas. Despite them all fixing their beds, they had yet to actually move back into them, and were still sleeping in a giant pile of pillows and blankets amassed by the aforementioned baboon. "He's the one who helped fix the Norman plate. Narmer plate. Thing. He's allowed to trash your bloody sports posters once in a while."

"Narmer Palette," Percy corrected cheerfully. Sadie raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Didn't expect _you _to be the one to correct me," she said, looking mildly affronted, "That's Carter's job. Nerd."

Carter squawked indignantly. "My _what _now? I'm not a _nerd."_

"Don't worry, I'll defend your honor, chicken man!" Percy hollered from the kitchen. "Staffs at dawn, Sadie?"

"You think you can take me, Percy?" Sadie challenged—which would have been far more intimidating if she wasn't wrapped in a blanket with cartoon penguins on them.

"I'm doomed. Help me, Zia Rashid, you're my only hope," Carter pleaded, giving Zia a desperate look normally only found in soap operas.

"Are you unwrapping yourself from the two blankets you stole from me?" Percy asked Sadie, as he walked back into the general living space, and deliberately ignored the soppy expressions Carter and Zia were trading.

"No," Sadie replied, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "I'm _comfortable._ And it was three. I took the red plaid this morning, after you _stole my pillow._"

"Sadie," Carter interrupted with a wince, leaving off the latest round of making cow eyes at his crush, "Um, that's my blanket."

"Oh. Well, then," Sadie said, only looking more pleased with herself, "That's two from you and one from big brother then."

Zia gave a soft chuckle, contentedly watching the bickering between the Kanes. Carter sighed, and somehow he became even more sappy and even nerdier when he saw her. "You see what I'm up against? Thieves! Bagginses! They're in Mordor where the shadows lie! And the penguins, judging from Sadie's blanket."

This was accompanied with a general wave in Sadie's direction, and Sadie rolling her eyes at his geekiness.

"I'm almost afraid to choose," Zia answered, looking torn between continuing to laugh at Carter, and looking ridiculously fond of him and his nerd literature references.

It was certainly a far cry from their first uncomfortable days together. Between any lingering suspicions about how she'd take being essentially disowned by the First Nome, as well as the romantic tension with Carter and makeshift sleeping situation—not to mention the situation with Amos—the first few days had been full of tension thick enough to choke on and enough miscommunication to last Percy a lifetime.

They had all been terrified of saying the wrong thing to each other, trying to learn how they worked together when the world wasn't about to end.

Sadie and Percy at that moment, however, were perfectly in tune as they looked at each other.

"Well, then. In that case, how much do we need him again?"

"Guys—"

"Well, you can't cook, and I'm capable of about three things, so unless you want to live off of lasagna and Jell-O, quite a lot."

"Guys!"

"Actually, that sounds brilliant. How much would you miss him, Zia?"

Much to Carter's horror, Zia pretended to think it over. "Depends. Would either of you be willing to take me to the mall in his place in exchange for my loyalty?"

"Of course," Sadie said graciously, with all the charm in the world. "It would be my pleasure. It would have to be London, though. I could introduce you to my mates!"

"I am kicking you all out onto the street," Carter said faintly.

* * *

Despite the way the work seemed to continually re-spawn when they weren't looking, the four of them continued to make progress.

Sadie and Carter slept for sixteen hours after fixing their bedrooms with the joining spell, sending pieces of furniture flying everywhere as everything fixed itself_. _Percy knocked himself out for two days fixing the pool and terrace after hours of practice and studying—and with last-minute help from Zia. Much to his pride, they got it all correct right down to the design of the tiles via a series of five spells. On her first day back at full power, Zia managed to fix the training rooms and hospital wing in two goes.

It was almost perfect. Nearly.

One day, after a throwaway remark from Carter that Brooklyn almost already felt more like home than anything he could remember, Percy brought Philip back to life. Amos had almost smiled as he watched the wax figurine spring to life in the pool, before collapsing back into a chair to stare desolately at the skyline. He then went to bed early without a word.

As usual.

Two weeks later, he could still barely look Sadie and Carter in the eye. Zia, a bit more.

He avoided Percy completely.

Percy reminded himself every day that it had nothing to do with either of them. Set had broken his will, forced him to do some terrible things. It was a possibility that Amos may never trust himself again after what he'd been put through by the god.

It still hurt like hell.

More than anything, Percy couldn't help but selfishly miss being able to talk to the magician who may as well be Percy's father. After everything, he just wanted Amos _back._

To ask him for help, to whinge about cleaning the house, especially when for all that he did his best, he was still a distinctly worse magician when compared to his three housemates. Percy didn't want what they had, of course, but it didn't stop him from being a bit bitter, in his darker moments; it was so much _harder_ when he was alone.

He just tried not to think about it. If he kept focusing on the rebuilding, on keeping their ragtag family alive and together, he wouldn't have to think about effectively losing the only father he'd ever known.

* * *

When Amos almost ran out of the kitchen as he came in for coffee one morning, Percy chose his next distraction in the form of reclaiming his pillows and blankets from Sadie for his fixed bedroom. After accidentally sparking an hour-long argument between Carter and Sadie over it, they finally cleaned up and retreated back to where they normally were supposed to sleep.

With that, came proper charmed headrests to keep anyone's _ba _from taking anymore impromptu trips through the Duat. It was all fine, Percy figured.

After weeks of dealing with Carter's snoring—not to mention some lingering co-dependency tendencies they had very pointedly not talked about in the aftermath of losing access to divine power as their fix-all—it was nice to be back in his room again and to have some privacy.

He fell asleep easily enough; he always had.

The nightmares bordering on night _terrors _were the problem.

Percy had always had nightmares; usually just nonsense that probably came from reading too much mythology and fantasy novels. But they'd never actually terrified him.

Apophis's threats and the red pyramid invaded his dreams just about every night, to the point that he nearly stabbed Sadie when she tried to wake him one night because of his screaming. The weird, unnerving dreams that were almost like visions became even more intense.

Percy would've preferred taking a walk through the Duat as a glowing chicken.

* * *

_"You're nothing but a liability."_

_"Help! Bast, somebody!"_

_"Ah, good, Percy. Now we have four for pinochle."_

_"It was an Evil Day."_

_"Such a lovely, treacherous goddess."_

_"Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?"_

_"I do not channel chaos, little mortals. I **am **Chaos."_

* * *

One night, after reliving watching Carter try to fend off Sobek in excruciating detail, frozen and unable to help, Percy threw the headrest across the room and decided to take a walk.

Barefoot and in pajamas, he went out to the terrace, almost collapsing to the ground as he sat on the balcony. Percy let his legs dangle over the edge, and was watching the New York City traffic below when Zia dropped down next to him.

"May I?" she asked.

"Go for it." Percy gestured to the empty spot beside him. She sat down. "I thought you'd still be up with Carter."

She raised an eyebrow as she looked over at him. Not judging, just calculating. "I did not come here for Carter."

"Then why did you come here?"

He'd assumed, of course. They hadn't made her come by any stretch of the imagination, and had made their intentions perfectly clear to Desjardins regarding the path of the gods. But Percy had learned a lesson or two recently, and he didn't know Zia Rashid that well yet, for all that the universe had thrown their lots in together.

"I care for him. Greatly," Zia said after a moment of silence. She rested her hands on the bar in front of her, looking down at the bustling street. "But I also care for you, and for Sadie. Carter is not why I left behind everything I've ever known for a Nome on a continent I've never seen, for people I had never heard of until a few months ago."

"I'd be worried if you had," Percy said dryly. "We're not exactly a normal lot even by supernatural standards."

"It's easy to care for you, though," Zia said, contemplative, "You all. . .mean well, in a way that is rare."

"That's probably the best compliment any of us have gotten. Thanks."

Considering his school record, _Sadie's _school record, and how much trouble Uncle Julius had gone to stay on the run, he doubted he was exaggerating by much.

"But it's not why I came. I came because I believe that you are right," Zia said, with the same passion she'd had facing Desjardins in Washington. "We all saw Apophis. If he is awakening again, I know the old stories. He will not stop until he is either defeated utterly, or the world has fallen into chaos. Victory was only accomplished through the gods then, and I doubt it will be different now."

"Different people, same story," Percy said thoughtfully. It was how Horus was both brother and son to Isis and Osiris. Gods re-enacting old stories through new faces. New faces, with the free will to potentially change the story. "They'll need us as much as we need them."

Zia hummed in agreement. "Besides power on earth, it is what they wish for most. But it is more than Apophis, you know. Even if we survive him, I believe in the future that the three of you would build here. I believe in you."

And Percy, well. He didn't know how to respond to that. It was humbling. To be believed in for _anything, _let alone as grand an ideal as that.

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while, watching cars race by and listening to the sounds of the city Percy had known from birth.

Percy enjoyed the sensation of just _being. _Not talking, or casting spells, or trying save the world. He was just a kid on a balcony with a friend, letting a Friday night pass him by. It was nice.

Carter's snoring occasionally disturbed everything from down the hall, but it was a small price to pay for peace.

"But what about you, Percy?" When Zia broke the silence, it wasn't a question Percy would've guessed. "Your story?"

"Me? What is there to say?" Percy asked, startled. "I'm just. . ._Percy._ Wound up along for the ride when Julius blew up the Rosetta Stone that night. Even Desjardins picked up on it; I don't really have a destiny or anything special."

"A liability?" Zia said with disdain. "Do not believe him. I doubt even Desjardins truly meant it. He was angry, and afraid, and didn't know what to make of you. None of us ever have."

"Really, 'cause I thought 'surprise, mortal host' summed things up pretty well," Percy said lightly. "I wasn't meant to be in this story, Zia. I'm not afraid to admit it."

"I never said you _were. _But even when I was a child, your origins were a popular source of gossip, Percy, as the ward of Amos Kane. They mostly consisted of lurid mortal tabloid stories, but with Nephthys. . .you must admit, there is something peculiar," Zia insisted. "You would not have survived hosting a god for a period of time if you were simply a regular mortal. The two are just incompatible."

At this, Percy nodded reluctantly. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it ever since El Paso.

But what good would come of it? Amos had been perfectly happy to share the results of his searching attempts after he'd been old enough to ask, and it was all a giant nothing burger. Sure, there were a few things that didn't add up: the paternity test Amos had gotten years ago, the realization days after the fact that he shouldn't have understood lines on a few broken shards of the Rosetta Stone that had definitely _not _been hieroglyphs, everything with Nephthys. . .

It was uncomfortably weird, and Percy suspected that he should've told Sadie and Carter a while ago—or Amos, if he didn't have his own problems. It wasn't like he had any other options.

"I know," Percy finally admitted. "It's weird. I should be dead or on the train to crazy town. I probably should want answers."

"But?" Zia prompted, gently enough that Percy almost wondered whether the harsh, if compassionate, fire elementalist he knew had been replaced when he wasn't looking.

"I'm afraid of what I'd find," Percy answered quietly, a few uncomfortable instincts rising to the surface; for some reason, some old instinct kept telling him to shut up. "My mother is dead. I'd give up. . .nearly anything to know her. But I know she loved me, enough to give me to someone who could protect me from something, rather than trust the system. I know her name. I have a picture of her in my room."

"And you don't know this about your father." Zia didn't say it as a question.

"Yeah, that's the thing," Percy said, letting his head drop against the bar. "I don't know who he is. At all. Jackson's my mother's name. He could be dead, alive, an accountant, another magician, some schmuck hosting a god, I don't know. He could be freaking Aquaman. I just don't know."

Percy pulled his head back up and looked at Zia, almost grimacing at her pitying expression. "And the thing is, if he's alive and still in New York after all this time, he either doesn't know I exist, or he doesn't care. And if so, I almost hope that. . .well, dead. Almost. I—I can't help it. I don't know how he _couldn't _have known about me."

"I think it's a natural feeling," Zia said in a nonjudgmental tone. "It's your choice on what to do, and it's not as if you are alone. You have the rest of the Kanes, after all."

Percy waited for the "but" he could hear coming. Sure enough, she placed a hand on his wrist, and her amber eyes were piercing as she spoke. "But regardless, if you ever gain a chance to meet him. . .Percy, you should at least consider it. If only for answers. My parents died when I was too little to remember. They were killed by a demon, too. If I knew they were alive, I would give anything just to see them one more time."

"Even if they had left you alone for a decade?" Percy said with a bitter tone.

Zia nodded with conviction. "Even then. But if I had Sadie and Carter for cousins, I would not go alone. They love you, Percy Jackson, and couldn't care less who your birth parents were."

Percy looked down at his knees and grinned despite himself, something in his chest warming. Zia matched his smile with one of her own, and stood up. "Speaking of which, I think I'll go and prepare for bed. It's another long day tomorrow."

But before she could go, Percy decided to finally go ahead and ask the question that had been eating away at him for a couple days now. Good or bad, Zia was his best chance at answers.

"Sorry, and last thing, I promise, then you can go and do your thing, whatever it is, it isn't my business," Percy babbled before reining himself in. Zia arched an eyebrow.

"What is it, Percy?"

"Do you think Amos can be healed?" Percy hated how his voice wobbled at the end. He wasn't a child, dammit. Zia looked at the ground, and when she looked at Percy again, her face was full of sympathy.

"I don't know. But we can find someone to try."

* * *

The next night, Percy walked into the kitchen to try and find dinner, only to see what appeared to be an open door on the terrace, leading into pure darkness.

"Carter? Sadie?" he called cautiously. Zia had gone down into Brooklyn earlier that afternoon in search of a store selling the materials needed to build magician's kits. Amos had long since gone to sleep, and Khufu was watching ESPN with Muffin on his lap in the half-fixed living room.

With no response, and figuring either his cousins were already dead or perfectly fine, Percy didn't bother grabbing any kind of protection before walking through himself.

He figured he shouldn't have been that surprised when he came through to the Hall of Judgment. While dominated by the giant pair of golden scales Sadie had described after her dream, they looked to be fixed, and the overlay—the real world's weird holograph that lay on top of everything, as Anubis had explained—wasn't a crumbling graveyard in New Orleans.

Percy realized with a shock as he began to tentatively walk through, it instead was a very familiar airy living room. The arching ceiling, white walls, tall windows, doors leading to a balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean—he _remembered _this room, he realized with a shock.

He hadn't been there in the real world since Sadie's sixth birthday party.

"We've been waiting for you, Perseus."

"Aunt Ruby?" he breathed. He whipped around at the familiar voice to see the blonde woman who looked so much like Sadie, and had told him the story of Perseus, son of Zeus when he was little. "What? Y-You're dead."

"Brilliant deduction, Percy," Sadie drawled from the corner, standing between Carter and a throne containing a very blue Julius Kane, with Ammit the Devourer curled at his feet. "Knew we could count on you."

Carter glared at Sadie, who shrugged. "What? We've been waiting ages for him to get here."

"You could've left a note, Sherlock," Percy shot back.

"Children," Uncle Julius sighed, somehow managing to communicate fondness and exasperation all at once. "This is a happy occasion."

Sadie and Percy turned sheepish, if not apologetic, both of them muttering insincere apologies. Really, Percy felt like they were six and seven again, instead of twelve and thirteen.

Uncle Julius was watching him with proud affection, still looking the same as always in a tailored suit and dusty boots, with his favorite long coat. In a deeper level of the Duat, however, if Percy concentrated hard enough, he could see a taller, stronger version of him in Egyptian robes watching Percy with something uncomfortably close to suspicion.

Osiris.

But the moment passed quickly, and Percy was able to get a closer look at everyone around him. It looked like he had walked into a party, with even the demons with axes for heads somehow looking festive. "You're celebrating?"

Uncle Julius nodded. "Set's defeat, the return of Osiris—me, I suppose—to the throne. And our family finding each other again."

At this, Aunt Ruby took his hand, whispering something Percy couldn't hear as he came closer. Uncle Julius gave her a soft smile.

Percy had to admit, even as a blue god and dead spirit, they looked pretty happy.

Ammit growled at him as Percy walked by, and Percy gave him a dirty look. The growling didn't stop, but Ammit didn't do anything as Uncle Julius gave him a quick hug. Aunt Ruby kissed him on the forehead, and Percy felt his throat close up. He'd missed them so damn much.

That didn't mean Percy didn't have a laundry list of questions, though. "So, you're both Osiris and. . .you, Julius Kane? After—dying?"

"Both alive and dead," he corrected, not unkindly, "I am Osiris, and your uncle. Recycled, I think, may be the best term for me now. I am terribly sorry for what it put all of you through, but it was necessary."

To die. It was necessary to die.

Percy could recite the myths by heart at this point. He knew exactly what Uncle Julius was talking about: Osiris had been powerful when he was alive, but after being killed by Set, he had become exponentially more powerful as the king of the afterlife.

But he had died. And left them to stop Set while he tried to bring order back to the underworld in the Duat.

Percy swallowed roughly, and looked at Carter, trying to gauge if he was all right. If Percy was feeling conflicted, he couldn't imagine how he felt about the whole thing. Carter, much to his relief, looked more or less fine. His hands were shaking a little, but the rest of him looked relaxed, and had clearly already been told this. _Good._

"Necessary," Percy said slowly. "Right."

Uncle Julius looked apologetic. "If there was another option that didn't leave you alone, I would've taken it. I believed Amos would be able to protect you."

"He _did. _He just got possessed in the process after you blew up the stupid Rosetta Stone," Percy said pointedly, anger coloring his voice.

"Yes." Uncle Julius flinched guiltily. "But he will heal."

"Do you know that?" Percy demanded. "It's been weeks, and he's still. . .not better."

Carter and Sadie nodded in agreement, both looking crestfallen at the mention of Amos. Aunt Ruby looked grave, and shared a glance with Uncle Julius, who looked thoughtful. "Time, and a healer, I think, will be what helps my brother the most. But when you go back, Percy, tell him. . .remind him that the Ancient Egyptians believed that a sunrise was extremely powerful. It heralded not a new day, but a new world. For everyone."

Percy turned it over in his mind, trying to figure it out as the surreal feeling with talking to Carter and Sadie's dead parents came back. It couldn't make things _worse _than they already were. He felt he liked that sentiment, all things considered, even if he'd never heard it before.

"Yeah," he agreed, shaken, "I'll let him know. Is there anything else for us? Did I miss anything?"

"Before you arrived, we also gave Carter and Sadie a _djed," _Aunt Ruby said. Sadie gamely held up a black bag that presumably held the amulet. "It will help you to resurrect the divine path, and stir the call of the blood of the pharaohs in others."

"If the House didn't hate us before, they're certainly going to now," Carter commented. "That's going to potentially attract the attention of a _lot _of potential magicians."

"Your yucky spinal column symbol?" Percy asked, dubious. Sometimes, he was five years old, sue him.

He had never really used it or Anubis's for protection; an underrated part of divine magic, he'd found, and using amulets for protection, was going with your gut, and Percy's gut had always been of the opinion that using a death god's amulet to keep you alive was a bit counterproductive.

"See!" Sadie exclaimed triumphantly. "I'm not the only one."

"Sometimes, I wonder if you're actually related," Aunt Ruby chuckled. "It's a bit yuck, yes, but you should remember that it's a very powerful symbol, Percy, literally standing for backbone and stability. And as a symbol of the power of Osiris, what it stands for is not unlike the symbol of a phoenix."

"Rising up again out of the ashes?" Percy guessed. "Being reborn and all that?"

"Exactly."

Right then, the walls rumbled around them, making Percy, Carter, and Sadie jump in surprise.

"Unfortunately, that is signaling we should wrap things up," Uncle Julius said as he checked his golden watch. Percy blinked. What time zone was the Land of the Dead in? The Twilight Zone? "The others are waiting for you. Anubis will show you the way."

The three of them made to leave, escorted by the jackal-headed god, but Aunt Ruby held Percy back. "Except for you, Perseus."

"Why?" Percy asked suspiciously. Carter and Sadie stopped, similar paranoid looks on their faces as they turned around.

"It is for the best. Percy. . ." Uncle Julius trailed off. If Percy didn't know better, he would've said he almost looked_ afraid. _"I am afraid they may not react well to his presence. It is no fault of yours."

Sadie crossed her arms, a defiant look on her face. "You're going to have to do better than _that, _Dad. Percy's coming. If it's because he's not blood of the pharaohs, they can get over their classist selves."

"I've hosted Nephthys," Percy added. The walls rumbled again. "I _am _a magician. I can take care of myself for a meeting."

"It's not a matter of whether you can take care of yourself," Uncle Julius said sternly. "It's a matter of not wanting a council of Egyptian gods reacting poorly to your presence. Percy, it's for your own safety. You will just have to trust me, children."

"If we had 'just trusted' the House of Life, the world would have ended, and we'd probably have been executed by Desjardins," Carter pointed out. "We're not children anymore, Dad."

"But you are still incredibly young. Take care, children, and watch for your enemies. Go."

Uncle Julius waved his hand, and with a gust of power, Carter, Sadie, and Anubis dissolved in a breeze from the afterimage of the Pacific, presumably to wherever the rest of the gods were.

This left Percy in the Land of the Lead, alone with Uncle Julius, Aunt Ruby, and Ammit.

"They'll take that well," Percy said sarcastically. "Considering Sadie's such a goody two-shoes and you never taught Carter to question everything."

"Percy," Uncle Julius sighed. "You have to believe me when I say that I want nothing more in the world than for you, Carter, and Sadie to stay safe. I fear what would happen if some of the more volatile of them would do when confronted without the protection of you hosting Nephthys to throw them off the scent."

"Which should have driven me crazy," Percy said shrewdly. Suddenly, Zia's words from yesterday were echoing through his head again. _If only for answers. _"What aren't you telling me?"

Neither god nor spirit answered immediately, and that told Percy just about everything he needed to know.

"You _know. _Why won't you tell me?" Percy begged. He felt like the world was shifting again beneath him, their relationship fracturing under the pressure of Percy's questions. "They're _my parents."_

Julius didn't look at him, his hands clutching the arms of his throne. "Were."

"Were?" Percy repeated, his voice raspy for some reason.

"They're dead, Percy. Both of them."

"How. . .how long?"

Ruby slid a sympathetic arm around his shoulder, her touch warm like a living human being's. Julius finally met his eyes as she spoke to Percy, still looking at her husband. "Years."

Percy stumbled back from them both at this. Ruby stepped forward, but Percy raised his hands, felling like he couldn't breathe all of a sudden. "D-Don't touch me. Years?"

She backed off, and shot a look Percy didn't even try to read in Julius's direction. "I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry, Percy."

Dead. His parents were dead. Percy started blinking rapidly, his eyes stinging, and wished he could take back every word, every thought he'd ever had about preferring his father dead rather than alive and uncaring.

This was worse. So much worse.

Percy felt like he was going to be sick as the world went off-kilter around him.

One last fragile hope occurred to him; Julius ruled the Land of the Dead now, after all.

Maybe he could still say good-bye to them, at the very least. Percy was owed that much after all this, right?

"But you're Osiris now, right? You can—you can do _something,_" he asked desperately. "I can see them again?"

The sympathy in Ruby's face was almost unbearable, and even feeling like he was going to be sick, he didn't miss the quick glance of something that looked an awful lot like anger directed at Julius.

"Mortals perceive and go to the afterlife they believe in," Julius explained slowly. "And even if for whatever reason they believed in the Egyptian afterlife, your father's heart would have to have been successfully weighed and not fed to Ammit, seeing as I can't summon your mother. She is not in Aalu."

"Did you ever manage to get the name of your father?" Ruby asked gently. Percy shook his head, closing his eyes to try and keep himself from breaking down in the Land of the Dead.

He needed to get out of there. He couldn't hear much more. Except for one thing.

"And if they don't believe in anything?" The question slipped out of Percy, and he wrapped his arms about himself, trying to brace himself for the answer.

Nothing Percy had ever seen suggested either of his parents had been remotely religious from what little Amos had been able to find. No church records, no work with religious charities or travel to gatherings. Not even an invitation to join a satanic cult.

"There's nothing," Julius said sadly.

That last bit of hope flickered out.

* * *

He didn't seek out Carter or Sadie when they eventually returned from the Duat; he figured that if it was anything important, they'd find him themselves.

Percy just wanted to be alone.

After finding an awake, listless Amos and delivering Julius's message he went to bed, anticipating sleep and more nightmares of Set killing him in the red pyramid. But at least he didn't have to think about his parents.

* * *

That isolation was probably why the next morning when they all woke up, Percy was the most shocked out of all of them to find repairs of the mansion had been completely finished, apparently thanks by divine intervention.

What had probably still been two weeks' worth of work between the four of them was completely finished, down to restocking their wardrobe to something beyond slightly tattered linen.

After looking at the clothes suspiciously for a moment, Percy gratefully slid into a sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers.

Linen was comfortable as hell and great for magic and all that, but Percy had never quite gotten over the fact that he always looked like he was wearing pajamas in public.

He walked into the Great Room to find Khufu and Sadie dancing as the magical brooms and mops, which they had yet to fix, were going through their usual morning routine. Khufu's tattered basketball had been replaced with a brand new one in violet and gold, and he was sporting a new Lakers jersey, while Sadie was wearing a shirt he didn't recognize. She turned around and opened her mouth, only to double over laughing, pointing at something over Percy's shoulder.

Percy turned around to see Carter actually dressed like a real person, in jeans and hoodie and everything instead of a miniature college professor's slacks and button down. He started helplessly snickering himself.

Carter, for his part, looked down at himself then up at them. "What? Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, not all_—_Horus decide he was fed up with your fashion sense?" Sadie teased, giggling before she sobered a little. "You look very nice, brother dear. Dad would think you look impeccable. Almost like you're normal."

Zia happened to walk in at that last line, dressed in a linen dress with her hair in a ponytail. When she saw Carter, her eyes widened before she gave Carter a speculative look that made Percy want to gag a little. _I don't want to know, don't want to know, don't want to know. . ._

"Normal is not Carter," Zia said, eyes only for him, "But he does look good."

Carter gave her a dopey grin. Sadie and Percy quickly retreated into the kitchen, not waiting around to hear him try and flirt.

"God, I dread the moment they finally decide to kiss," Sadie commented with a shudder. "Then we actually have to worry about walking in on them doing. . _.things._ C'mon, brekkie's on the patio."

"Nope, nope nope," Percy sang as they walked outside. "Not thinking about it _at all. _I'm a child, an innocent child who has no idea about my cousin__—_huh._ Okay."

The two of them stopped dead at what they saw. Amos stood outside, dressed in a sharp chocolate-colored suit with a match coat and fedora. His round glasses looked polished, his shoes shone, and for the first time in weeks, his hair was freshly braided.

Sadie and Percy stared. Amos looked up, and didn't flinch at the sight of the two of them.

"What?" he demanded. "Is something wrong?"

Percy shook his head, dumbfounded.

"Nothing," Sadie said quickly. She mouthed _Holy shit_ at Percy, who nodded in agreement. She got her bangers and eggs, and Percy attacked his blueberry pancakes with enthusiasm as Carter and Zia finally walked in a minute later, holding hands and both of their jaws slightly dropping at the sight of Amos.

They didn't comment, however, and only shared a look before getting their own pancakes as Philip thrashed around his pool, while the magicians all took turns throwing him bacon.

As Carter took a large drink of his orange juice, Sadies chose to break the companionable silence. "So, are you finally taking her on that mall date?"

He started choking, and color rose in Zia's cheeks at the question.

"That's. . .none of your business," Carter choked out as Percy helpfully pounded him on the back.

"So, yes."

Carter made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as Zia nodded, giving a grin to the entire table, but before breakfast could de-evolve into the usual chaos, Amos re-joined them. He flicked his hands at his cup casually as he sat down across from Percy, filling it with coffee.

Percy studied him curiously. The last time he'd seen Amos use magic had been during the Demon Days, when he'd been possessed by Set.

"I was thinking this morning, and I decided it would be for the best if I went to the First Nome for a while," Amos announced without preamble. Percy dropped his fork onto the floor.

The three other Kanes and Zia all looked at each other worriedly. Carter cleared his throat. "Are you sure that's a good plan, considering, um, Desjardins?"

"They have the best magical healers out there, and they've sworn to taken anyone in who asks for it." Amos looked out across the East River, his gaze far away. He took a sip of his coffee, and his eyes refocused as he looked at them again. "Even me. I. . .I would like to try."

As he spoke, his voice sounded like it was made of porcelain, ready to crack at any moment. But it was more than any of them had heard in weeks.

"They won't turn you away if they still adhere to their oaths," Zia said, encouraging, "The Chief Lector has no control over who they accept."

Sadie nodded in agreement. "I think that sounds like a brilliant idea. Besides, I think we can take care of ourselves for a bit, keep an eye on the place and Percy. Right, Carter and Zia?"

Percy gave a groan and rolled his eyes as the two of them agreed too enthusiastically, but didn't say anything. Amos watched the four of them banter with fondness, looking more alive than he had in ages.

"I will probably not return for a while," Amos said, sounding like he was weighing every single word, "But please know, that this is your home, all of you. And, perhaps. . .if you feel comfortable, you should start recruiting. Many children with blood of the pharaohs are all over the world, and don't know their heritage. You four may be their only chance. _Our _only chance."

Sadie got up and kissed Amos on the forehead. "We've got this, Uncle. I have a plan."

Well, turnabout was fair play.

"Oh gods, here we go again," Percy muttered _just _loud enough for Sadie to hear.

Carter shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Sadie sighed dramatically before glaring at them. Amos managed a smile. He got up, and ruffled Carter's hair on his way inside. For brief moment, Percy internally debated it, then went to follow him inside.

When he entered the kitchen, carefully knocking on the door-frame to announce his presence, Amos whipped around, something that looked distinctly like guilt crossing his face.

He was going to leave without saying good-bye, Percy realized.

"What happened wasn't your fault, Amos," Percy said, feeling strangely nervous and angry at once.

"Wasn't it?" Amos's voice cracked as he studied Percy like he was seeing him for the first time in months_—_something that wouldn't be wrong.

The near-apocalypse and months of trying to get their lives together had changed him. His hair was shaggier than he had previously kept it, and he'd grown an inch or two; without thinking, Percy had clipped his wand onto his belt this morning as he stored his staff and kit in the Duat, and he'd had the symbol of Ma'at painted on his tongue to help with magic ever since the Demon Days.

He had still hurled Nephthys's amulet into the East. Maybe it was a stupid move, but Percy had no attention of putting that thing on ever again. He'd take his chances as things were. Maybe take up some mixed martial arts, and keep trying to push his boundaries.

While still not _good _at magic, there must have been some sort of after-stink from Nephthys hosting him, because he no longer had to actively fight spells to keep them from backfiring, if his bedroom was anything to judge by.

Spells fizzling out or knocking him unconscious were definitely miles above concussions, at the very least.

Percy shook his head to focus. Was this what Amos had been thinking since the Demon Days? "What are you talking about? You tried to warn us. I was just too dumb to pick up on it. I mean, you taught me better than that. You did nothing wrong."

"Percy, you're thirteen years old. Thirteen. And I failed you when you needed me there," Amos insisted with a broken smile, "But by anyone's standards, regardless, you have been terrific, and I am. . .impossibly proud of you. Always."

Percy felt torn between blushing and muttering some words he wasn't supposed to know. If he was so terrific and had been able to take care of it, there _wasn't a problem._ "Then stop blaming yourself then. Set hadn't given you a choice, and we were all fine in the end."

"I swore an oath to your mother to keep you safe, Percy, and I have failed miserably. You _should_ be blaming me."

"That was when I was a kid. I'm not a kid anymore," Percy said simply, "I'm just. . .a small adult. I've got this."

Neither of them said anything, and Percy briefly wondered if they were really about to have this ridiculous fight, after months of him, Carter, Sadie, and Zia managing to take care of themselves, with no oversight other than a sports-obsessed baboon and bacon-eating crocodile.

Finally Amos opened his mouth, looked at Percy, closed it, and then tried again. "Come here, kid."

He held his arms out, Percy accepted it, and Amos hugged him so tightly Percy could've sworn he heard his ribs crack.

When he let go, Amos slid his glasses up his nose, shaking his head with a melancholy look. "Sometimes, I still feel like you're the toddler determined to live in the pool with Philip. I'm going to worry about you, Percy, even when you're able to save the world."

"And I'll be fine," Percy told him, slightly embarrassed at the bit about Philip. It had been a _phase._ "I'll see you soon."

"Not if I see you first," Amos said with a ghost of his old smirk, tipping his fedora, and looking more like himself than he had in months. He walked outside and stepped over the ledge to disappear without another word.

Percy turned around, taking in the empty kitchen.

It was a start. The house was fixed. Amos was going to heal. They would re-open the path of the gods.

It was strange, he reflected in the temporary silence. They seemed to finally be getting everything right, and it still felt like they were missing something. But you couldn't get everything, no matter how much you wished for it.

He tilted his head back, mentally kicking himself. "Don't get greedy, Jackson."

Then he heard Sadie's joyful yell.

"Bast!"

_Or do get greedy. Get very greedy, because apparently that works._

The gods had completed their gift.

Percy ran outside in time to see Sadie embracing a brunette woman in a leopard print suit with two very large knives and golden eyes. He gave a small whoop. Over Sadie's head, Bast gave Percy a smile promising them all mischief. "I believe you have a job opening for a responsible chaperone?"

Zia looked at Carter, torn between joy and worry. "Is it too late to evacuate to Manhattan?"

Carter just grinned, his eyes dancing. And one way or another, Percy decided, Apophis and Desjardins or not, they were gonna be okay.

* * *

_"You lied to him."_

_"Should I have told him the truth, and potentially kill us all?"_

_". . .No. Ma'at is still far too fragile. But he deserved something that wasn't a lie, at the very least. __If he finds out__—"_

_"If he finds out, no one__—**no one**__—is safe. The laws, the spells, the taboos that separate us___—they_ all exist for a reason. History has taught this far too many times."  
_

_"Forget history for a minute. He'll never forgive us, or anyone else who could have told him. He thinks his father is **dead."**  
_

_"Ruby, if I break the ancient laws, it would destroy everything we've worked for to stop chaos. I can't even tell which one is his parent. And if we did send him into their domain, they have their own dangers. It could be a death sentence."_

_"I think we all underestimate him too often. He survived Set and Nephthys, after all."_

_"I wouldn't be able to warn him, and I won't risk his life on the off-chance one of them actually admits to siring him."_

_"You certainly took it well, at least. Though I wonder how Bast hasn't picked up on anything."_

_"Perhaps she has, but fears what would happen if she voiced any suspicions. All I know is Osiris wanted to kill him where he stood. Being family was the only thing that saved him."_

_"A grudge is still there, millennia later?"  
_

_"Alexander and Cleopatra certainly weren't Roman when they helped to cause Egypt's fall and stamp out her gods, Ruby."_

* * *

**A/N: **So I contemplated going to the end of the KC trilogy from here, but considering it would be more or less canon—sans the Zia side quest from _Throne of Fire_—with similar character development, I figured there wouldn't be much of a point, particularly with such other interesting things beckoning in this 'verse. The making of Carter, Sadie, and Percy is laid down here. There will be flashbacks down the line, but nothing that really interests me in writing a full-fledged story for.

On a completely unrelated note, I completely love writing these dorks, in case you can't tell from the amount of pointless fluff.

There'll be an epilogue of sorts to this that shows them post-_The __Serpent's Shadow_ (And leads directly into _Crocodile Wrestling_), and then a one-shot showing the Greek side of things.

If you've got any questions, comments, or want to scream at the fact I'm shamelessly ripping off Greek tragedy because I like pain, feel free to let me know!


	5. The Disappearance

**Disclaimer:** I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson, or the Kane Chronicles.

**Warnings:** Swearing, self-edited.

* * *

_"Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood."_

_-Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, _Rick Riordan

* * *

Sadie Kane was going to _murder _her cousin.

As she stormed through the hallway to the Great Room, the Twenty-First Nome's weekly meeting was called to order—something instituted by Carter on the grounds of things like "responsibility" and "accountability" and "I'm pharaoh, Sadie, I have an example to set."

Carter wasn't wrong, exactly, to institute the meetings. But someone had to keep him honest, in her mind, and she was best for the job.

Or Percy, when he didn't decide to _disappear._

Jaz Anderson and Walt Stone flanked her on either side as she walked towards the Great Room, wisely not speaking to Sadie as she fumed. Choosing to multi-task as she walked, she composed Percy's epitaph in her head.

_Perseus Jackson-Kane, _she thought, considering the ridiculous boy switched between surnames whenever he felt like it, _dead at the age of fifteen years and five months. Friend, family, bad magician, and idiot murdered by his own cousin for missing a meeting he swore he was going to lead so that said cousin could have some bloody alone time with her boyfriends.  
_

She was totally going to work in the sewage stories in somewhere today. He deserved it.

Carter and Zia were in the First Nome with Amos, presiding over the trials for a faction of magicians who had refused to surrender after Apophis's defeat, so she and Percy had been captains of the ship for the past week. Surprisingly, the mansion hadn't burned down or exploded yet with them in charge, outside one day where Felix had accidentally turned the entire second floor into a skating rink.

"Has anyone seen Percy?" Sadie asked as she strode into the full room, which quieted quite satisfyingly as she entered. "He was due to cover the agenda today."

Everyone looked at each other, confused murmuring spreading like wildfire among the group of magicians, initiates, and animals. Sadie's righteous rage —something she'd rather been delighting in —simmered down a little at the lack of any immediate answer.

Finally, Cleo timidly raised her hand. "I saw him this morning when I had breakfast. He seemed distracted."

"Really?" Sadie asked, her eyebrows raised. Cleo was up with the sun each morning like clockwork; Percy liked to sleep in, waking up with the night owl set. "Did something happen?"

"He mentioned strange dreams," Cleo said with a frown. "Nothing detailed. He said he was going for a run to clear his head."

_Well, that's bloody clear and helpful._

Beside her, Jaz's brow furrowed at the vague explanation. But Sadie knew it wasn't entirely unusual.

Percy liked to run out to a boardwalk when he was having problems, usually concerning his nightmares; he claimed the air out by the river made him think more clearly.

Personally, Sadie thought he just liked not having to constantly be the glorious supreme leader for a few hours—which, despite his many protests, he _was; _everyone in Brooklyn House loved him, mortal or not, and he took to looking after them all like a duck to water—and wanted some time to himself. And she normally didn't begrudge him, except.

Except he had _promised to be there, and not running off to only Isis knew where.  
_

Swallowing her annoyance, she thanked Cleo and got to the agenda for the week, resigning herself to an afternoon full of dull leadership minutiae. It was the usual for the middle of the month, thankfully; with the Demon Days well behind them, no major magical issues or inauspicious days were at hand, and outside a reminder on quiet hours with the high school and college students approaching midterms, it was fairly mundane stuff.

Unfortunately.

While she was moderating a disagreement involving someone's attempt to recreate _Little Shop of Horrors _that had resulted in their neighbor's room being invaded by carnivorous plants, Sadie's mind couldn't help but wonder what on earth Percy was thinking when he'd left that morning.

She knew he had some of the worst nightmares any of them had ever seen, bordering on night terrors at times, but he'd always left a note before leaving for a run.

With all the enemies they still had out there it was just basic sense, and for all he had a love of thumbing his nose at authority—not Sadie had any room to talk—Percy was one of the better people with keeping everyone's locations at least somewhat accountable. Whatever he'd dreamed of must have shaken him badly, and Sadie couldn't help but feel bad for him at least a little. PTSD nightmares were the _worst._

But it was still no excuse, Sadie thought sourly as people started to yell over the supersized Venus flytraps around her. She'd been busy the past couple days covering classes, and had been looking forward to playing hooky with Walt and Anubis for a bit. Percy had _promised _he'd be able to handle it.

Whenever he came back, she was going to strangle him.

* * *

He didn't come back.

Rather than arriving fashionably late during the meeting with an excuse Sadie had been planning on accepting after giving him the appropriate amount of shit, Percy didn't come back home. Instead, she droned on about class schedules and basketball court availability for what felt like forever, her eyes flicking back to a stubbornly empty doorway every five minutes.

As the meeting began to wind down nearly two hours later, Sadie began to wonder if she should be properly worried about him.

"Do you think we should start looking for Percy?" Jaz worriedly asked Sadie, practically pouncing upon her as everyone left for class.

Since the Battle of Brooklyn House, when she and Percy had spent nearly two days under siege until Carter and Sadie were able to bring back Ra from the Duat, Jaz and Percy had been good friends, leaning on each other whenever the rest of them had been dragged off by questing.

After a brief moment of thought, Sadie shook her head, giving the blonde healer a reassuring smile. "Much as I rag on him, Percy's not an idiot. If he were actually in trouble, half of Brooklyn would be on fire by now. He'll be back by dinner with everyone else, probably."

Then dinner went by with so much as a sighting of familiar scruffy black hair, and a sliver of ice began to work its way into Sadie's heart.

It was one of about three unspoken rules that were never broken at Brooklyn House (Rules unsurprisingly propagated by Bast during her tenure as the Official Chaperone): Sleep was sacred outside the apocalypse, never bring up the Paintball Incident, and someone _better_ know where you are for dinner.

The unlucky souls on kitchen duty that night had just went to clean the dishes when Sadie, after five minutes of staring angrily at the table cloth, her cold soup untouched, snapped.

"That's it. Either he's dead, or is _going_ to be when I'm through with him," she growled to Walt as he watched her with raised eyebrows and mild concern, either over Sadie's mental state or Percy's location. Possibly both; he was good at multi-tasking like that.

Sadie stalked out, her glower sending the younger initiates scattering from her path.

In her room, she made a beeline for the innocent-looking scrying bowl on the balcony, the oil in it shimmering in the dying light of the sunset. Walt had given her the automatic scrying bowl for Christmas, replacing the one that had been blown up months earlier on accident.

"Show me Perseus Kane _now,"_ she demanded without pause. Not the _now _bit ever did any good, but it did make her feel better.

Scrying places she'd never been were difficult, but people who meant a lot to her were easy to find. As she stared at the bronze bowl, the oil briefly swirled of its own accord, and Sadie saw a brief image of the Long Island Sound, and the familiar skyline of Manhattan.

She frowned. _What would Percy be doing in_—

It then burst into flames.

"Gah!" Sadie hurled herself back from the bowl with an embarrassing scream, falling flat on her back. The lethal black flames died down quickly, but the damage was done. Sadie watched with shocked fascination as the metal twisted and melted onto the floor, her nostrils burning from the smell of burned olive oil.

That was bad. That was really, really bad.

Scrying bowls only did that when trying to see a magically concealed place, she remembered immediately from Walt's work. That, or seeing something in the presence of a god or goddess, or their host.

Somehow, Sadie had a feeling that it wasn't one of the gods or magicians who didn't want to kill them responsible for it. Because they were Kanes, and the universe hated them.

"You do realize that those aren't the easiest things to make, right?" Walt said, making Sadie jump. He looked torn between worry and amusement as he stood at the doorway. She blinked dazedly, and for a moment saw Anubis's brown eyes, soft with concern. "You and your brother seem to go through them like candy."

He helped her up from the ground and Sadie let her hands linger on his shoulders a bit longer than necessary, enjoying the solid presence of him. Or them. A few months into this relationship, and she still had to completely work out the kinks in the pronouns.

"It's not our fault people keep bloody disappearing or getting kidnapped," she murmured, her mind already dividing itself into two planes: one, to figure what the hell was in _Manhattan_ to cause that reaction. Second, to swoop in and put their heads on pikes in front of Brooklyn House if her ridiculous cousin with a terrible penchant for dad jokes had so much as a paper cut.

Sadie had long since made peace with the fact that she had anger issues when people touched her family. Not to mention, she was possibly just a _little_ bit bloodthirsty.

"What do you need me to do?" Walt asked, his mind already going in the same direction as Sadie's without a word from shook herself.

_Right. Percy. Missing in action. Magically concealed place or god's winter home in Manhattan. Maybe both._

Gods, she had a bad feeling about this.

Walt, thank goodness, was possibly being more useful than Sadie at the moment. "Do we need to go on lockdown? Is it a danger to Brooklyn House? Do you need me to call up the First Nome?"

She really loved them sometimes. Not that she wasn't always at least a little bit arse over teakettle for either one of them, infuriating as they could be. But they always had their moments that reminded her _why._

Such as helping lead an impromptu search-and-rescue for her wayward family.

"I'm calling Carter," Sadie said briskly. As she spoke, she stepped back from him to get her magician kit, wand, and staff out before beginning to braid her hair back. "So I'd be very grateful if you could land me a direct line to First Nome, yes. Then we'll need to wake up Jaz, if she's asleep, whichever of the adults are around—I think Camila's back from Portugal, she's responsible—to keep an eye on things here."

"Consider it done. Short list for the team?"

Sadie paused at the question. "Let's keep it at least somewhat discreet. Trouble's not a sure thing yet, and we don't need an army of penguins waddling down Madison Avenue or too many people attracting something nasty. Five or less, and Carter'll probably want to come, worrywart he is—"

"And you're not?"

"—Alyssa's diplomatic, and good counterpoint for Julian. She managed to register on the Richter scale yesterday with her earth magic, and Julian's stabilized his avatar a lot more since the battle with Apophis," Sadie continued, ignoring them. "Sean's in Ireland, and everyone else is too young, or haven't come back from their holiday vacation yet."

"No waiting for adults?" Walt questioned. Sadie could see a smirk tugging on Anubis's lips in the Duat.

"You know the answer to that," she replied, exasperated.

As she walked by, he wrapped an arm around her, kissing her quickly but fiercely. Walt pulled away a moment later, leaving Sadie slightly dazed. As he walked off, he said over his shoulder, "As you wish, General."

Rather horrifyingly, Sadie liked the sound of that.

* * *

"You saw Manhattan? Sadie, are you _sure?" _Carter asked, paling at the mention of the city borough. He looked exhausted, and was still dressed in Egyptian robes from doing. . .whatever it was pharaohs did during trials. Sadie imagined it was all very dull.

"That's not good. It's dangerous for magicians to cross to the west bank. Plus, there's. . .rumors," he said, lowering his voice and looking over his shoulder at the initiates scrying away behind him, "About why there are no magicians in Manhattan."

"Strangely, brother dear, vague warnings aren't making me feel better," Sadie snapped, probably a bit unfairly. They all probably could've used a good nap or five, instead of this _ad hoc _mission. "Sundown's in thirty minutes, he's still not back, and no one can manage to track him. Does Amos have any ideas? He's made a few comments about staying out of there before, right?"

Carter nodded slowly, his eyebrows so furrowed together in thought they were beginning to resemble one long furry caterpillar. "Yeah, once or twice when he was possessed by Set years ago. Don't really remember why, and anyway, he wasn't himself at the time."

Sadie stared at him for a moment, rather dumbfounded. Normally, _she _was the one behind on the leaps in logic.

Thankfully, Carter picked up on it, running his hands down his face with frustration after a moment. "Yeah. Right. I'll see if he's still awake. Thoth's beak, I need to sleep. Zia and I were woken at three, and it's almost midnight here."

Sadie winced in sympathy. "No ta. You don't have to come back over here, you know. He's probably fine; just fell down the well or something and needs us to throw him a rope. If it were something major, we'd all know by now. Rogue magicians are more or less done, yeah? And no one's heard about Setne since he disappeared with the Book of Thoth."

As she talked, Jaz and Julian entered the room, falling silent when they saw who Sadie was talking with. Julian began to awkwardly shuffle out of the room, but Sadie waved him back in. If they were going to look before night fell, she was going to have to wrap up her conversation with Carter soon.

"I feel like I should, though." Carter bit his lip, looking the unsure teenager he usually hid surprisingly well these days. "I mean, if he's actually in trouble, I'd never forgive myself."

_And now we've crossed the line from reasonable into melodrama. _Forgetting the Paintball Incident, and the laundry list of people out there who would doubtless love nothing more than a chance to take a potshot at one of the Kanes, they didn't know what was up yet. Percy was a functioning magician most of the time, and probably the best out of any of them at hand-to-hand.

Sadie told her brother as much, ignoring the little voice in her head mentioning that despite a mind-boggling knack for surviving things that should have killed him, taking Percy—still someone most of the senior initiates could wipe the floor with in a no-holds-barred fight—was _also _frankly the fastest way to grab them by the throat.

"Carter, now you're just being a drama queen, and that's _my_ job. Get some sleep, and I'll send a message in the morning. If things are actually, Isis help me, bad, you can come over here with Zia, Amos, and the rest of the cavalry. But _sleep,_ you look terrible."

"If you say so," Carter finally agreed reluctantly, probably more out of fatigue than anything else. "Stay safe, Sadie."

"I do say so. Let Zia keep you out of trouble."

After he made a face at her—despite the fact that Sadie was completely right, and he knew it—the oil rippled and turned dark. Sadie shifted her attention to a twitchy pair of magicians, both of them looking ready to burst with something.

"Are we ready to go, then?" she asked as she went over to her bed to stuff her wand and collapsed staff in her bag. Much to her annoyance, she had yet to quite master the trick Carter had down pat of storing and retrieving stuff from the Duat on command. "Will it just be us three, or. . .?"

"Alyssa's coming," Julian promised. "Mentioned something about finding her supplies after Shelby broke into them to fix her crayons."

Sadie snickered a little. She loved their kindergartners. "Fantastic. Any idea where we'll be going, then?"

"Couldn't really find anything specific, but you mentioned that you were pretty sure you'd seen Long Island Sound, so that was able to help us at least figure out plausible starting points," Jaz explained as she pulled a scroll out of nowhere, unrolling it to reveal a map marked up with red pen and what looked like some of Shelby's crayon sketches. One area in particular was circled multiple times.

"So see here, where it's a bit less urban? It's mostly private property with a few chain restaurants and touristy stuff scattered everywhere. Pretty mundane, but—"

"There's a forest, a big one," Julian cut in enthusiastically. Jaz sighed, and Sadie empathized. Julian was sometimes like a big puppy, full of energy and accidentally steamrolling everything in his path. Good kid, but. . .loud. "I noticed it. Seemed a bit weird, considering everything's mostly developed at least a _little _around it, and it's prime real estate considering it's right on the coast. So I looked into it, and guess what?"

"You and _Alyssa _did a few searches in the library," Jaz said pointedly, but not unkindly. Julian mumbled an apology, abashed. "It's owned by some business called Delphi Strawberry Services."

"Strangely specific enough," Sadie commented. It wouldn't have been the first time they found a business acting as a front for something not entirely human. The word _Delphi _also rang a bell in her memories of sitting through far too many classes in school about Roman mythology.

Jaz nodded, smiling triumphantly. "Alyssa checked the website. There's a bunch of pretty pictures of strawberries and signs on white picket fences, but no actual employees listed, with only a phone number for delivery. No one quite seems to know where the storefront is, either. The general area wouldn't be too far out of Percy's way if he were to switch sides of the river."

"He could've reached it by now if he was running part of it," Sadie said in agreement.

"Also, Google Earth can't seem to pull up the area; keeps loading forever," Julian chimed in nervously. Sadie grinned reassuringly at him, and he brightened a little before adding, "Maybe it's bad Internet, but the restaurant a block down and houses on the other side are easy to get."

"Sounds about dodgy," Sadie said thoughtfully, "There have been a few reports from Long Island too, haven't there?"

"Carter mentioned seeing a flying horse recently, and a few reports of monsters that don't line up with what's on record," Julian supplied, looking through what looked like—were those _notes?_—some papers before asking, "Also, isn't Delphi something important from the myths? Can't remember."

Sadie's heart sank as he looked expectantly at her, one of his teachers. Egyptian myths were Percy, and any references elsewhere tended to be Carter's wheelhouse. She silently pleaded with Jaz to save her from inadvertent humiliation before she was forced to plead for a miraculous call from her brother.

Jaz obliged, though Sadie could've done without the wink in her direction. "Yes, actually. It's not from Egypt, though. If it's referencing a myth, it would be the Oracle of Delphi, and that's a story from the ancient _Greeks."_

Sadie snorted. As much as a conspiracy theory with evil magicians their lives had been the past couple years, even she didn't think every single slightly weird business they came across was a front for something that wasn't entirely human.

They lived in _New York City,_ for crying out loud, and they made Londoners look sane. Percy had probably just gotten sidetracked with something.

Now if only Sadie's gut agreed with that.

"I doubt it actually means anything beyond someone wanting a memorable business name," she said, tamping the feeling down, "C'mon, we don't have all night. I have an exam to not fail in a few days."

* * *

When Carter stumbled out of the bed on his sixth morning in the First Nome, feeling like a crocodile had chewed him up and spit him out about four times over, he dreaded his loud sister's doubtless colorful message about what mess Percy had stumbled into.

That is, until he found no sign of any message at all.

After checking three times in five minutes.

He paused long enough to hope that donkeys trampled his sister's ghost in Egyptian, before throwing in Percy for good measure. He then downed about three cups of coffee and inhaled enough taameya for three before getting dressed in street clothes and practically sprinting down the hall to Zia's door.

Beyond some ruffled hair, she looked ready for combat in a tunic and leggings, her copper skin glowing in the sunrise as light spilled through the windows behind her. If asked at that moment, and feeling slightly whimsical, Carter would have said she looked like dawn incarnate.

"Is there anything wrong?" Zia asked, sounding a bit raspy from sleep, "Carter?"

Then again, Sadie and Percy liked to say he was a giant sap.

"We have to go back to Brooklyn," Carter said abruptly, reminding himself to not stare at his girlfriend. "I'll go find Uncle Amos, but we need to leave now. Something's wrong with Sadie and Percy."

It was like a switch had flipped on inside Zia: her remaining fatigue evaporated, she straightened up, and a dangerous look entered her eyes as she asked grimly, "Manhattan?"

"Manhattan."

* * *

**A/N: **. . .I'll just leave this right here.

Also, quick timeline alteration that didn't come up in-narrative but always really bugged me: Unlike in canon, Walt's fifteen here instead of seventeen-ish to Sadie's fourteen. Carter and Zia are both sixteen, and Percy's fifteen (To Annabeth's fifteen as well, for those of you keeping track at home).


End file.
